CoLu Week 2018
by GemNika
Summary: Dates: June 17th - 23rd, with the 24th as a bonus day. CoLu Week is back for its fourth year. Full details inside. (Rated M for a reason)
1. Introduction & Warnings

**Welcome to CoLu Week 2018!**

 _Dragonshost_ is hosting Cobra/Lucy Week for the fourth year running! I know it's a bit later than I normally post this, but I wanted all of you to know that it was happening and that, yes, I will _of course_ be participating this year!

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I've decided to give you guys my titles for the prompts that will appear in this collection, as well as approximate word counts. That way, you can return to this page to find which chapter you're looking for, should you decide to re-read any of them.

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 **Dates: June 17th - 24th**

 **Prompts:**

Day 1: _Defect  
"This Isn't the Musketeers!"_  
Word Count: 4,200

Day 2: _Water  
_ _"From Water to Wine"_  
Word Count: 7,400

Day 3: _Invite  
_ _"Night's New Mistress"_  
Word Count: 20,200 _  
_

Day 4: _Pyramid  
_ _"The Serpent and the Angel"_  
Word Count: 9,700 _  
_

Day 5: _Delirious_ (This will be posted in _Who Says Fairy Tales Are Normal?_ )  
 _"Until the End"_  
Word Count: 18,300

Day 6: _Pilot  
_ _"Just Wing It"_  
Word Count: 4,800 _  
_

Day 7: _Staff *  
_ _"For You, My Queen"_  
Word Count: 18,900 _  
_

Bonus Day: _Dance **  
"You're Still the One"_  
Word Count: 13,900 _  
_

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* This is your only warning. This prompt is _dark_ , and could be triggering. I won't remind you when that prompt gets posted.

** Day 8's prompt will _not_ appear in this collection. It's going to be in its own story on my page, so keep an eye out for it. The only reason I'm doing this one this way, is because it has multiple chapters.

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This week will obviously be rated M (it's me, we're talking about... Of course that's the rating…). I'm laying down the blanket disclaimer here:

 **Please be aware that this is M for a reason.**

I don't do trigger warnings at the beginnings of chapters, so be aware that some of the entries for this year may be triggering to individuals. If you feel uncomfortable while reading my work, please stop reading it and find your happy place.

If you do want to continue reading it, but you're unsure if it's something that you can handle, I'm more than willing to answer messages concerning the stories. So, you **_do_** have the option of messaging me and saying, "I'm concerned that this story might be too much for me. Can you tell me if [insert triggering thing] is in there?" It doesn't have to be super specific, but if... let's say, mentions of rape... are triggering to you, then just ask me. I'm more than happy to let you know what is and isn't in a story that's already been posted. Yeah, it's a couple extra steps on both ends, but that's the only way I see this being feasible without a tagging system in place like on AO3.

If you'd like to read this on AO3 instead, you can find these stories as separate entries (instead of grouped together like they are here on FFnet) with their own tags. Just search for my same penname on Archive of Our Own.

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I can't wait to see what the rest of you decide to do for this. I'll be posting notes on my stories as a reminder when it gets closer to the event, and you'll see updates on my other social media doodlies as well as my profile. If you'd like to let me know you're working on something, or want to send me a link to a CoLu Week entry from FFnet, post it as a review on _this_ chapter or to my facebook page. I'll most likely put those links on my Tumblr with the proper tags so others can see them as well.

From the mods running it: "As always, please only use your own original content."

If you'd like your artwork or fanfics to be featured on the CoLu Week page on Tumblr, please go here: **colu-coalition . tumblr . com**

I can't wait to see what you all do. I'm so excited to write for this!

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 **One last important note!**

This week will be full of AUs. I wanted to try branching out a bit from the canon universe. Broaden my horizons and all that. Plus I finally (binge)watched all of _Game of Thrones_ with my husband. It took us about a week to get through all seven seasons. While watching it, I got super inspired to write. So several prompts will be fantasy themed, and you might even see some similarities with the show. Maybe a scene I enjoyed, or character relationships I wanted to explore with Fairy Tail characters instead. As it stands right now, there are five Modern AUs (with different variations on top of them being Modern Setting), two Fantasy AUs, and one canon universe. Each story is set in a separate universe, and none of them are connected in any way (excluding Day 5, which is obviously part of the _Who Says Fairy Tales Are Normal?_ universe).

I may decide to eventually continue some of these stories (maybe), but if that does happen, I'll be using whatever's in here and expanding on it. So instead of them being removed from _CoLu Week 2018_ , they'll be the "original short stories" that longer works are based off of.

As of 6/15/18, two of the prompts are marked to eventually be made into longer works when I have the time... maybe when I don't have so many ongoing stories. There is also one prompt that has the potential to be a longer work, but that'll depend on the feedback for it.

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As of 6/15/18, I have one more prompt to write. The last prompt for CoLu Week may be a little late. Then again, maybe not. I was able to write 13k for Day 7 in a single day so... who knows?

Keep writing, reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting!

~~GemNika.


	2. Day 1: This Isn't the Musketeers!

**A/N: I'd like to welcome all of you to CoLu Week 2018! I know I haven't been very active lately, and you're probably eager to get some updates on my main stories, but real life has been kicking me in the teeth lately. Things are finally starting to even out (I hope), so maybe I'll be able to update more regularly after CoLu Week's finished.**

 **CoLu Week doesn't start for another 12 hours, but I'm posting this shit now... I'm pretending I'm in Australia, and it's already CoLu Week there!**

 **I'm changing it up a little bit. Since I'm cross-posting these on AO3 as separate stories that have summaries, I'll be putting those in here as well for you guys.**

 **Also, take a gander at the introduction chapter one more time. I've added some things that might interest you. A few little teasers of what's to come for this week. There are some very long prompts coming soon... So, read through the introduction chapter again, make sure you're familiar with my policy on trigger warnings and all that jazz.**

 **But, let's get this week started! I decided to start things off with a nice Modern AU. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Now, let's get to the story!**

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 **Day 1: Defect**

 _ **This Isn't the Musketeers!**_

 _Summary:_ _They were on opposing sides in this fight, but neither wanted to be there. To end things once and for all, Lucy and Cobra team up to take down the tyrannical forces who pitted them against each other._

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Lucy definitely didn't want to be here. She didn't want to crawl across dew-softened leaves in the woods, and she didn't want dirt slithering it's way down her pants and into her black boots. She could already feel not-quite-mud clumping in her bright pink panties. But she really hadn't had a choice in the matter. It was either pull her weight and come out on top, or return home with her friends' deaths hanging over her head. She couldn't let that happen. It didn't matter if she was covered head to toe in mud. As long as they were victorious, then all of this discomfort would be worth it. More than worth it.

The quick report of gunfire through the trees had her instantly pressing her face to the ground and keeping her rifle just inches above the dirt. Erza was supposed to be with her. They were _supposed_ to be partners, but they'd gotten separated when enemies had ambushed them from the rear. In the fray, Lucy had gotten her hand-signals mixed up, and what she'd thought was _Turn left and loop around_ had apparently been something closer to _Turn right and run the fuck away!_ It was too bad, really. Because Lucy wasn't a fighter like Erza was. She wasn't as confident in her abilities with her rifle. What she lacked in Erza's accuracy and just downright overgrown balls, she made up for with her ability to hide like there was no tomorrow. If she focused enough, then she could get a shot in here or there. No one would be any the wiser until it was too late, and there was a large splotch of red decorating their chests. But she always had Erza covering her six.

But now Lucy was all on her own, trying to figure out how the hell she could get back to safety. How she could find just one friendly. Because if she could find Gray or Laxus or _anyone_ else who wouldn't shoot at her on sight, then things would be just peachy. They could protect her until this was all over, and then she could go home and try to forget all about this.

The gunfire that had been far off was much closer now, and Lucy found herself cringing while she slowly crawled to the base of a large oak. Maybe she could get up into the branches and wait for the enemy to pass her by. In her experience, they didn't think to check above them. It was poor planning on their part, especially since everyone knew she was a climber.

"Fan out!" came a gruff voice off to her right. "Scarlet's in here somewhere."

Bullshit was Erza anywhere near this place. Clearly this team had no idea that Lucy was the one who'd come this way. But she didn't have time to dwell on that. They were coming closer, and she was entirely visible lying on the ground like this. If the grass had been just a little higher, she might've been able to blend in a bit more. But this tree…

She glanced up and quickly measured the distance between the ground and the lowest branch that would hold her weight. Three meters. She could manage that with some inventive shimmying. Lucy glanced around one last time, listened as the quick _tap-tap-tap_ of gunfire echoed through the woods. It was followed rather quickly by a low thud and a quick curse from what she hoped was an enemy. Based on the unfamiliar cheering, someone on her side had been taken out for good.

That was her cue to move. She scrambled to her feet and slung her rifle over her shoulder, then wrapped her arms around the trunk that was three times her size. And she climbed. She probably looked like a total idiot, hugging her way up the tree, searching for even a little bit of traction with her boots. But that wasn't important. All she cared about was not getting shot in the back.

"I think I heard something over here!"

"Then shut the fuck up and stop giving away our position, idiot!"

"Shit," Lucy groaned while finally pulling herself up onto the branch she'd had her eye on. But it was still too low. She needed more cover, and the only way to get that was to go higher. She took a deep breath and hauled herself up onto the next branch, then pressed her back flush against the trunk just as three men came into her line of sight. If she'd moved faster, she might've been able to shoot them. Except her rifle was still on her back. It would make too much noise to pull it around now that they were circling around the base of her tree. She didn't recognize them though, and that let her know that they were, in fact, not on her side.

Luckily for her, they moved on quickly. They didn't even think to check the tree.

It really was a shame she hadn't been better prepared. What Lucy wouldn't have given for word to get back that she'd gotten three of the enemy's forces from her vantage point.

Once they were far enough away, she let out a slow, steadying breath and crouched down on the branch. It was going to take some serious stealth and maneuvering to get back to the base. She had to figure out just how far she was from it in the first place, and in these woods it would be doubly difficult. There were no landmarks for her to reference this time around. Last time she'd been dragged into this bullshit with Erza, it had been in a mostly deserted city. Hiding had been more difficult, but the buildings had given her a good baseline to work from when she'd needed to get back to their hideout to re-up her ammunition.

"Bunch of fucking morons, I swear." Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin at the low, gritty voice coming from just above her. She whipped her rifle around and aimed, peering through the leaves to see a pair of indigo eyes staring down at her. "Put that shit away," he said. "If I wanted to shoot you, I'd have done it while you were giving yourself a fucking mud facial."

Her eyes narrowed, and she readied her fingers over the trigger. "Who are you?"

He chuckled, and she didn't take her sights off of him while he slowly moved down to a branch sitting a foot higher than hers. She vaguely recognized him, but it was a little difficult with all of his hair covered by a black bandana and the black and forest green paint covering his face. "Cobra," he said. "I'm one of Jellal's lackies."

She lowered the barrel a centimeter. His rifle wasn't even out. It was slung across his back, unusable from how he was crouching on the branch. She wasn't going to trust him right away, but he wasn't threatening her right then, either. "Lucy," she said. He could still have a pistol hiding somewhere. There was no telling how much of a snake this Cobra guy was.

"Ah, so you're the one who was with that fucking demon," he chuckled.

"You mean Erza?"

"I mean the psycho who shot four guys before they could even figure out where shit was coming from, then barreled through the clearing like some fucking valkyrie on a warpath" he said. "She's a monster."

"Well, some people enjoy this sort of thing," Lucy sighed. She definitely wasn't one of them. She hated this.

"Right there with ya." That drew her attention back to him in an instant. He seemed like he was all for this slaughtering nonsense. He definitely looked the part. A total Rambo with his face painted and weathered fatigues with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. But maybe he'd been dragged into this, much like she had been. Maybe he would much rather be sitting at home with a blanket and a cup of warm tea and a good book.

Or maybe that was just Lucy.

Her rifle lowered another centimeter. "Is that why you're up in this tree?"

Cobra nodded and peered through the leaves to check their surroundings. "I'd much rather sit my ass up here and wait for the smoke to clear." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and a devilish smirk curled his thin lips. "Then I can just pick off the stragglers and be done with this bullshit."

That did sound like a good plan, but also a boring one. Especially if he was going to be by himself. But if he wasn't planning on shooting her, and if he didn't mind...

Lucy squared her shoulders and finally lowered her rifle completely. His brow quirked with amusement, but she ignored it in favor of firming her resolve. "Care for a little company?" she asked.

Erza would skin her alive for this later, but anything was fair game when it came to war. And if this would keep her from being shot, then Lucy was willing to betray her friends. Just that thought alone had her gut souring, but then he smiled at her. Slowly, with more grace than she would have thought possible for a man as tall as him, Cobra crept onto her branch and crouched in front of her. He held out his hand and she cautiously set her own in it.

"You and me against all those assholes," Cobra said. The sudden depth of his voice had her shivering. "We stick together, and we'll get out of this shit alive. Let's make them pay."

"Deal," she said.

* * *

They crept through the underbrush and down a small bank into a creek that cut across the southernmost tip of the woods. Lucy had told Cobra that her base was in the north, so they were going to hit his base first. Taking out the supplies would seriously hinder their effectiveness in the coming hours. They had to get rid of the guards posted on either side first. Cobra was an excellent shot, and Racer and Angel were down before they knew what hit them. He stayed in the shadows while Lucy rushed in to trash the base, so no one would be any the wiser of their new partnership. As soon as it was done, she ran back to the trees and met up with him, then they travelled north to her own base.

It was while they were rounding a blind bend that shit went south. And fast.

Cobra had taken the lead position, and Lucy was watching their six, but she heard the breaking twig a second before he did. She reached forward and grabbed his collar, dragging him to the ground while bringing her rifle up to aim at whoever was coming.

She shot before she realized just who it was. When she saw the bright splash of red covering Natsu's chest as he fell to the ground, Lucy nearly ran to help him. But she wasn't on his side anymore. Just as Cobra wasn't on Racer and Angel's. This silly war between Jellal and Erza was no longer her concern. She was out for herself. And if they could end this early, then she was all for it.

"L-Luce?" Natsu coughed, his brows furrowed as he gazed up at her. His deep green eyes widened when Cobra stepped up behind her. "Luce, look out!"

She sighed when Cobra simply chuckled and draped his arm over her shoulders. "Sorry, Natsu," she whispered. She raised her rifle and aimed at the space between his eyes, then pulled the trigger. "It's not personal."

Cobra shook his head, watching as crimson droplets trickled down from Natsu's forehead. "Nice shot," he said.

Lucy shrugged him off and trudged along the path. "Don't make me save your ass again," she grumbled.

"Aw, don't be like that," he laughed while jogging to catch up with her. "It really was a solid double-tap."

"Are you seriously referencing Zombieland right now?" Cobra shrugged. She rolled her eyes at his cheeky grin, but she smiled all the same.

* * *

After destroying Lucy's old base of operations, she wasn't sure what they were really supposed to do. Both sides would probably meet somewhere in the middle to end this once and for all. It was while they were on their way to that final clearing, just before sundown, that everything went to hell. They hadn't heard him coming. If Cobra had heard it, he would have saved her. One minute, they were crouched behind a tree, and the next she was falling to the ground at Cobra's feet, holding her chest and gasping for air. When Lucy brought her hand away, he saw it. That damning red stain on her fingertips.

Cobra dropped to his knees and pulled her into his arms. He brushed her muddy blonde hair from her eyes while she struggled to pull in another breath. "Lucy, are you alright?"

"C-Cobra, I…" Her gaze shifted to the side, where the shot that had caught her off-guard had come from, and her eyes went wide at the sight of a hulking man, well over six feet tall, with long raven hair pulled up into a high ponytail and piercing crimson eyes. "There…"

"Stay with me," he said. "We'll get you some help, okay? Just don't give up on me."

"Too late… I'm…" She coughed and brought her red-stained hand to his cheek, smearing his facepaint and streaking it with the proof of her failure. "I'm sorry… I f-failed you."

"Lucy, no," he said, shaking her slightly when her eyes started to close. "No, come on!"

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Lucy, stay awake!" Cobra shouted. She went limp in his arms. "Lucy!"

"Get a fuckin' grip, Cobra! She's not even on our-"

He gently laid her down on the ground, then turned a deadly glare to Gajeel over his shoulder. "You killed her."

"What the fuck're you-"

"You bastard!" Cobra bellowed. He lifted his rifle and fired off three shots in quick succession, each one hitting its mark on Gajeel's broad chest. "You're all going down! Every last one of you motherfuckers!"

Gajeel stumbled when another two shots hit him in the stomach, and he watched in horror as Cobra pulled Lucy's limp body onto his back then rushed off through the woods. As he laid on the ground, he barely caught sight of his teammate mowing down people left and right, friendlies and foes alike. All while keeping that tiny little blonde woman on his back.

"Fuckin' asshole," Gajeel groaned, turning his gaze skyward. He was just going to lie there for a minute to catch his breath. He kind of needed it after taking five shots to the chest and gut.

* * *

Erza draped Jellal's arm over her shoulders, and they slowly limped through the clearing strewn with bodies toward the lone man standing in the center of the carnage. Cobra. He'd betrayed Jellal and shot him in the back, seconds after shooting Erza in the stomach. He'd taken every single person down, with Lucy draped over his back the entire time. No one understood just what he was doing. Why he was attacking everyone and screaming bloody murder. Why he kept yelling about vengeance for an _innocent life_. When it was all said and done, he was the only one left standing, and Erza was more than ready to find out just what had pushed him over the deep end.

As far as she knew, he didn't even know Lucy. This was the first time he'd been in town for one of these events. "Cobra, you have a lot of explaining to do."

"I don't have to explain shit!" he yelled. "Gajeel killed her!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jellal groaned. "She's on Erza's side. If he shot Lucy, then-"

"He _killed_ her!" Cobra yelled.

Gajeel rolled his eyes while walking into the clearing, nearly dragging Natsu along with him. "I shot her because she wasn't on our team, ass."

Natsu lifted his head and swiped the red paint from the forming welt on his forehead. "Luce, why did you shoot me in the head? I thought we agreed no head shots."

Lucy giggled and tapped Cobra on the shoulder so he could finally let her down, then looked over at her best friend since preschool once her boots hit the ground. "I told you it wasn't personal, Natsu."

"Clearly, you've taken this paintball game too seriously," Erza said to Cobra, frowning all the while. "It's clear that you're to blame for Lucy's hand in this."

"Why the hell would you think that?" Cobra laughed. "She's the one who asked if we could team up."

"Lies!" Erza yelled.

Lucy laughed and shook her head, resting a hand on Cobra's forearm before he could lift his paintball rifle and shoot Erza in the face. "We didn't want to play to begin with, Erza," she said. "That's why we teamed up. So this could just be done."

"But Luce, I thought you loved paintball!"

She sent Natsu an unimpressed stare. "I love it about as much as you love sitting in a library. After the food you snuck in has been confiscated." The way his eyes widened in horror let her know that it was the perfect example for him to understand. She couldn't remember how many times they'd been kicked out of the library for him being too loud. But studying had never been Natsu's forte.

"And you, Cobra?" Jellal asked. "You didn't want to do this either?"

"Hell no," he said. "But considering everyone I know is doing this, and I'm only in town for another week, I figured I might as well suck it up and join in."

Lucy hadn't known that Cobra lived out of town. Somehow that hadn't really come up while they were making their way through the woods, picking off their friends. They'd joked around a fair bit, but a lot of the time had been spent in silence. For stealth purposes. She wasn't sure what to make of Cobra not being around for much longer, though. He was funny, and she kind of wanted to get to know him. Especially since it seemed like a good number of her friends were already friends with him.

"Now, I don't know about you guys, but I've got dirt in places that don't deserve this level of exfoliation," Cobra said. He lifted his hand and sent them a quick wave, then turned toward Lucy. After a moment of watching her, watching him, he smirked. "Care to accompany me back to my car?"

"We're dirty," she laughed.

He just shrugged. "Not important. I've got some towels we can put down. I don't know about you, but I could go for some fucking Denny's."

"Denny's does sound good," she said softly.

Cobra glanced back at their friends who were milling around the clearing, swiping paint off of themselves and chatting now that they were no longer enemies. "Jellal, ride with your girlfriend down to Denny's."

That was a little disappointing to hear, on Lucy's part. She'd kind of wanted to just be with him and get to know one another. But then she heard Gajeel laughing along with Angel. "Gihi, you and that fuckin' restaurant, man. Every time you go out to eat, it's that fuckin' place!"

"Because the Grand Slam is fucking delicious!" Cobra shot back. Lucy was more than surprised to see the man who'd been so composed while they were together - his melodramatic acting over her death that they'd agreed would be hilarious, notwithstanding - suddenly rushing at Gajeel and tackling him to the ground.

And just as she knew would happen, Natsu quickly joined in the fray. He was always looking for a good bout of roughhousing. Because Natsu jumped in, Gray did as well. Soon, nearly everyone from both teams were rolling around on the ground, fighting one another with wide smiles on their faces. The group of twenty-somethings were like a bunch of children. Or puppies. She hadn't expected to see Erza and Jellal get in on it though. That was definitely different. But as soon as Lucy realized that she was the only person not in the midst of that messy battle royale - when had Laxus jumped into it? He never got in on silly things like this - she started to feel just a little bit lonely.

And out of place.

But then an arm wrapped around her waist and a hand pressed over her mouth, and she was being dragged away from everything. With not one person even noticing that she was gone. She considered struggling, but the voice in her ear had her actually helping to get moving. "Let's get outta here. We'll have a few minutes to ourselves before these guys realize we left."

Lucy nodded and he let her go. As they walked back toward wherever he'd parked his car, she watched out of the corner of her eye as he removed his bandana and wiped all the facepaint off. He noticed her wide-eyed staring almost instantly. And that she was blushing just a little bit. Because unlike her red-haired friend, Lucy preferred men with a tan. A dark tan. Much like Cobra's complexion. How she hadn't considered the fact that she'd seen his forearms, and that they were, in fact, the same shade of creamy coffee as his handsome face… she couldn't be sure.

And then there was his hair. A rich maroon that spiked up in every direction from being stuck beneath the bandana. Honestly, the style worked for him.

"Can I help you?" Cobra asked.

"Possibly," Lucy said, turning her attention back to the path in front of them.

"Cryptic," he chuckled.

She simply smiled in response and changed the subject as they continued walking. Because while she thought he was attractive, and knew that he was funny, she really didn't know much else about him. The only reason she'd agreed to ride with him in the first place was because he was a friend of Jellal's. And she'd known Jellal for nearly ten years by that point. She knew for a fact that he didn't associate with people who were shady or untrustworthy. And if he or Erza, or even Gajeel and Natsu, had been uncomfortable with the idea of Lucy hitching a ride with Cobra, then they would have said as much. And loudly.

She did want to get to know Cobra better though. She was definitely curious to find out whether there was anything more to this attraction she felt for him, past his looks and sense of humor. She wasn't into one-night stands, so no matter what happened, it would take some time to build up anything with him.

"Mud looks good on you, by the way," Cobra said.

Lucy laughed and punched his side. "You should see my un-mud-tionables."

The fact that he laughed so hard that he snorted like a pig for three solid minutes was a definite tick in his favor. That was actually pretty cute.

 _ **.The End.**_


	3. Day 2: From Water to Wine

**A/N: I'm so glad you guys enjoyed yesterday's absurdity. This week is going to be full of AU's, so let's get right back to the good stuff.**

 **Today, I've got something different. A Modern Dystopian AU. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Day 2: Water**

 _ **From Water to Wine**_

 _Summary: Years after the first of the Shifter Raids, he finds an animal in need of help. It's a risk even taking it in, but he can't leave it to die. What he finds will change his world forever._

* * *

He kept his head lowered and the collar of his beige coat pulled high to ward off the smog filtering through the city streets on Monday afternoon. With quick, measured steps - fast enough to get where he needed to go, but not so fast as to draw any unwanted attention to himself - Erik trudged down the cracked sidewalk, through a throng of teenagers with drab, unkempt clothes, and didn't look anywhere but at the ground.

The kids hanging around were nothing new, even though Erik thought they should be in school. But public schools were a thing of the past. They were nothing more than memories of a simpler time. A time that no one spoke of in public, for fear of the STF catching wind and having them tried for sedition. Like hell was he going to mention that time in his life, when he'd been only a child who walked two blocks down the road to his school with his best friend since birth. No, he just kept his head down and continued on his way home from work.

It would have stayed that way, if it hadn't been for the sudden breaking of glass just across the street and angry, masculine shouting.

Erik glanced over to see what the commotion was, and that was when he saw it. STF officers in their heavy black militia gear dragged a naked man from an apartment building, and tossed him to the ground, knocking his glasses off in the process. The man tried to scramble away from them, but he didn't get far.

"Please, I'm innocent! Just leave me alone!"

And all it took for Erik's attention to be drawn away from the scene was the pair of furry cat ears poking out of the man's wet auburn hair. That explained it. He didn't need to know who had called in the Shapeshifter Task Force. Just like he didn't need to know where they were taking that man once he was loaded into the nearby grey MRAP vehicle with a grate on the front for crowd control. That man would never be seen again.

"I'm a human, too!" the man bellowed. "I have rights! You can't-" He was cut off as an officer hit him across the face with a baton, sending splashes of red onto the pavement.

If he was a shapeshifter - and that was the only explanation, considering Erik caught just a glimpse of a long, furry tail when he glanced back one last time - then he couldn't be with the general populace. He couldn't be allowed to interact with humans. They couldn't let him procreate and continue the mutation in his genes in future generations.

It was easy to ignore the screams coming from that van while the doors slammed shut. Erik simply continued walking home, just like he did every Monday through Thursday at a quarter to four.

* * *

At seven o'clock on Wednesday morning, Erik left his apartment for work. He adjusted his coat to sit just right on his shoulders, and paused to scan his wrist over the locking mechanism. A small green bar lit up on the his tanned skin. He wasn't worried about someone breaking in. The police had nipped things like theft in the bud nearly ten years prior. But scanning the lock meant that he was going to leave home. And scanning himself in at work would show that he'd taken his normal route, and hadn't dawdled. And if he did make a stop anywhere, like at the grocery store, all he had to do was give proof of his route by allowing them to scan his wrist to verify it, and his reason for the change, should the STF stop him for questioning.

Erik's loafers tapped on the worn royal blue carpet as he walked down the hall toward the stairs. He kept his head down, even in the building. There was nothing interesting to look at anyway. Drab grey doors gave way to sterile white walls in a steady rhythm. He rounded the corner and didn't pause when he neared a thin man wearing only his boxers in the hallway, standing with his back to an open doorway.

"Fucking dumb shit!" the man yelled. "Like fuck am I getting arrested for your ass!"

Erik glanced to the side to watch the man kick something on the floor. It wasn't his business, so he kept walking. He had to get to work, after all. And after work, he needed to stop for some groceries. His day was full, so there was no point in lingering to find out what some other idiot in his building was doing. Once he reached the first floor, Erik pulled up the collar of his coat and prepared himself for the stench that permeated the air outside. He was glad that he only had to walk three blocks to get down into the subway where the air was clear and fresh from the filtration systems.

* * *

On Thursday morning, Erik paused in the hallway to see what the lump on the floor was. It hadn't been moved since the day before, and it didn't smell badly so it couldn't be trash.

He crouched down after making sure no one else was around, and peered at the little ball of something. Its middle raised and lowered slowly, almost labored, and his indigo eyes narrowed when he realized it was covered in pale yellow fur. With a heavy sigh, he pulled out his glasses and put them on, then looked at it again.

A cat.

The man in his boxers the day before had been beating a cat in the hallway. What a fucking monster. He was tempted to touch it, to see if it was even responsive. Based on the hacked up hairball near its head dotted with drying blood, he could only assume that the poor little creature wasn't long for this world.

It was probably a blessing.

Erik stood and shook his head while walking down the hall toward the stairs. He needed to get to work. Some cat that was barely alive wasn't his concern. What _was_ his concern was getting to work on time. The last thing he needed was to be late. That would upset his boss. And if he could avoid getting on Brain's bad side down at the pharmacy, then he was all for it.

* * *

On Monday afternoon, he saw the cat again. Still lying in the same place it had been since Wednesday. Erik really wanted to continue ignoring it. That was the status quo for him - pretend it's not happening, don't make a fuss. It kept him out of trouble. Then again, it wasn't like he had a whole lot to worry about. He wasn't a shapeshifter. He was a normal human with a normal job and no criminal record. And no reason for anyone to suspect otherwise from him.

Still, he stopped to stare down at the cat. It wasn't conscious. It was still breathing though. How the fuck was this thing still alive?

He frowned and looked around the hall. No one was there. No one could see him. His building was so old that there were no cameras installed in the hallways. He was out of the little conical range of the scanners that were required on every door. He turned slightly to look at the door to that man's apartment.

 _Jack L. Tartaros._

That man with his dirty blond hair and gold eyes. He was someone Erik refused to mess with.

Slowly, he bent down and drew the frail little cat into his arms. It didn't make a sound as he tucked it under his coat and walked the rest of the way to his own apartment. Erik scanned his wrist at the door and went inside, locking it behind him. He didn't know the first thing about cats. He actually didn't care for them all that much. He also didn't know a damn thing about helping a hurt animal. But it wasn't like he could just let it die. He could at least _try_ to save it. So Erik took the cat with him to the bathroom and grabbed a spare towel to make a little bed for it on the couch.

The cat didn't smell, so there was probably no need to bathe it. He just had to make it comfortable. And then try to get some water in its system. Maybe the thing was dehydrated. Considering it had been lying in the hall for more than half a week, he figured that had to be the case. He left the cat on its little bed on the couch, and went to his kitchen for a glass of water and the first aid kit that had a nasal aspirator in it.

* * *

At two o'clock in the morning on Tuesday, the cat woke up. And in turn, it woke Erik as well. He'd been asleep, dead asleep and thankful for the rest, when a small, almost questioning _meow_ from the foot of his bed pulled him back to reality. He always slept in total silence. He hated white noise in the background, since it kept him awake.

Erik rubbed his eyes and peered off the edge of the bed. Through the darkness, he could barely make out the wide, almost glowing honey eyes of the cat. And there it sat on the floor, staring back at him, almost through him. It didn't make another sound after that first meow to wake him up.

"Fuck off," he said. "I've got work in the morning." He didn't wait for a response - honestly, what kind of response could the cat give him in the first place? - and flopped back onto his pillow and closed his eyes.

There was no noise from the cat for the rest of the night.

* * *

Every night at two in the morning, the cat returned. It meowed only once, just a small, crackling sort of sound that wanted to be normal, but wasn't. Maybe it had sustained some damage to its voice box, or maybe that was how it had always sounded, Erik wasn't sure. What he did know was that it wasn't coming to beg for water - he made sure there was a bowl full of it close to the couch for the cat - and it didn't want any food - he'd been feeding it scraps of food from his own meals, and it scarfed everything down without hesitation. It was a pretty fucking clean cat too, since he'd laid down a newspaper in the corner beneath his living room window, and the cat never once used it to piss on. He wasn't really sure where the thing was using the bathroom in his apartment, but he'd smelled every inch of the place, and there was no ammonia-stench anywhere.

But the point was, there was no reason for the thing to bother him at two in the morning every single night with just one meow. And every time he woke up, it would just sit there at the foot of his bed and stare at him. This was part of why he hated cats. They just stared when it suited them.

Every time he found the cat there, he said the same thing. "Fuck off. I've got work in the morning."

As Friday rolled around, and since it was his day off, he decided to humor the thing. He went to bed just like normal, and woke up when it meowed at him. Except this time, it meowed a second time before he could even open his eyes.

With a sleepy frown, Erik peered over the edge to find the cat not in its usual spot on the floor at the foot of the bed, but much closer. Up on its hind legs and stretching its clawless paws onto the top of his comforter by his shoulder. That explained why it never clawed the furniture. The cat meowed a third time while sitting back down on the floor, still staring up at him, still waiting for… something. He wasn't sure what, though.

But he was curious. What did this cat do while he wasn't around?

"Go away," Erik said softly. He kept watching though. He watched it blink up at him, and he watched as it finally stood and turned to leave his bedroom. That was when he noticed something though. The cat was limping. There was some sort of weakness in its left hind leg. "Stop."

The cat stopped and looked back at him.

Odd. It was almost like the thing actually understood what he was saying. Had someone trained this cat and gotten rid of it? Did that man who'd been beating it train the cat?

"Come here," Erik said softly. He memorized the cat's careful gait in surprise when it started limping toward him again. Once it was close enough, he reached down and scooped the cat up, then settled it on the bed. And in an instant, the cat began purring and rubbing its face along his fingers. "I should be sleeping right now," he sighed.

The cat stopped and looked into his eyes again, then meowed quietly and moved to the foot of his bed, out of the way.

His head tilted with curiosity when it curled up with no further prompting. "Did you just want some company?" he asked.

The cat didn't answer - although, he didn't really expect it to answer in the first place. It just blinked at him and closed its bright honey eyes. That had to be it though. So, Erik did the only thing he could think of right then. He laid down and went back to sleep with this strange cat curled about his feet.

* * *

Erik had never really been a cat person. He preferred snakes and reptiles. It was common for people to have pets - only animals that had been tested to verify they were _only_ animals, and not shapeshifters in disguise, then approved by an STF committee were allowed - but Erik hadn't ever wanted a pet before.

He didn't see the cat as much of a pet though. It was almost like a roommate, as the next month went by. Every day before work, he sat and ate his breakfast with the cat. They ate dinner together every night. On his days off, they lounged on the couch and watched television. The cat didn't have a name. He didn't believe in naming animals. He didn't even know if it was male or female, and he wasn't going to take it to a doctor to find out. That was money he couldn't afford to spend.

The strange thing about this cat, though, was that it disappeared when he brought the occasional woman home with him. It stayed out of sight, and didn't come into his bedroom until the woman was gone - whether it was that same night or in the morning. It didn't seem to hold a grudge against him for having women over. It was almost as though the cat was giving him some privacy.

The cat still limped, which meant that Erik tended to carry it around the apartment so it didn't have to struggle. From the way it purred in his arms, he assumed it appreciated the gesture.

He wasn't really fond of cats, but this one didn't feel like a normal cat to him. But Erik refused to consider the possibility that this was a shapeshifter. Because shapeshifters were almost always in human form. They preferred keeping their disguises up by pretending to be humans. Those days, shapeshifters were more stealthy and guarded. They didn't let anyone touch them, from the reports on the news, while they were in their animal form. Apparently, they couldn't stay as an animal indefinitely either, so there was no way this cat could be one of them.

It was just a cat.

* * *

" _Joan, we've received reports from the STF that Shifters have been found hiding in rural areas. They're trying to create settlements for themselves that aren't sanctioned by the government."_

" _That's right, Tomas. You know, we see so many stories about them being rounded up. Protests have died down. They know it's for the best, and these little groups are trying to take that for granted."_

"What a bunch of bullshit," Erik muttered, turning away from the television. He didn't want to hear more of the same nonsense about shapeshifters. He was just so tired of it.

" _We've just received an updated report from the STF. The most recent encampment of these things had 30 men and women, and 10 children. They're procreating. They're trying to build an army."_

"They're trying to fucking exist," Erik sighed. Why couldn't people see that? With a roll of his eyes, he bent down to pick up the cat from its favorite spot on the couch. He ignored the Saturday morning news while carrying it to the kitchen, then set it on the counter. Since he'd already downed his first cup of coffee for the day, it was time for breakfast. "What should we have today?" he asked the cat. It blinked up at him from its spot on the counter. He turned to the fridge and peered inside. "Bacon and eggs?"

The cat's response was another blink when he looked at it.

"And pancakes?" he drawled with a smirk. The cat's tail flicked from the left side of its body to the right, and then it meowed. It really seemed to enjoy eating little nibbles of pancakes without syrup.

Erik pulled out four slices of bacon and three eggs, then the milk and pancake mix. The cat probably wouldn't eat any of the bacon, and it steered clear of eggs most times too. But he could give it a little bowl of milk to help wash down the pancakes once they were cooked.

He began measuring out pancake mix. He chuckled when the cat stuck its face into the bowl and tried to eat it before he'd even added the milk.

"None of that, now," he said. The cat was adamant though. He tried to push it away, but between one breath and the next, the bowl toppled to the floor and landed on top of the cat, spilling the mix all over the tile. While he wasn't too happy about the mess, Erik was more concerned with the cat's well-being. It still limped, and he was sure the last thing that it needed was a fall from the counter.

Erik removed the bowl from over the cat and found its golden fur coated with a heavy dusting of pancake mix. It didn't make a sound as he picked it up, but he could have sworn the look in its large honey eyes was one of sadness. Regret, even. If eyes could be apologetic, that's what this look was. But that was just silly.

"You're not in trouble," he chuckled, rubbing a bit of powder off the top of its head. He made his way to the bathroom, then turned on the faucet to get a bit of water into the tub and set the plug. "We just need to get you a little bath, and-"

The cat howled and tried to scramble from his grasp. He was never more thankful than in that moment that it didn't have claws. His bare arms - usually covered by long sleeves to cover his tattoos - would have been torn to shreds from how violently the cat began protesting being cleaned. But Erik was larger, and he was stronger. And the poor little cat who was just absolutely terrified of the inch or so of water in the bottom of the bathtub, didn't stand a chance against him.

"If you wanna be like this, then fine!" he finally yelled. He promptly dunked the cat in the water, thoroughly soaking its stomach and hind legs while keeping its face above the surface. Before he could cup his hand and gather some water to pour between its shoulders, a puff of bright pink smoke filled the tub. It wasn't a thick sort of smoke. Almost like steam, if he was being completely honest with himself. It was just thin enough for him to see through it.

It happened when he blinked. One moment, the cat was there in the tub, howling and flailing every which way, and the next it was gone. Well, there was still something in the tub, it just wasn't a fucking cat. It wasn't even a fucking animal. It was a naked woman, soaking wet, gasping for air as she crawled to the far end of the bath. His jaw dropped, and he was struck into silence as his gaze traveled over the delicate upturn of her nose and the fullness of her breasts. The swell of her hips and the graceful arch of her hunched shoulders. Erik wasn't sure how he managed to turn off the running water.

Shocked didn't even begin to describe his fucking feelings. Horrified was definitely one of them. Because the only way for that cat to suddenly be a voluptuous… scrumptious… naked… crying, begging woman was for her to be a shapeshifter. And she just couldn't be a shapeshifter. Because he'd been harboring her, caring for her. But now she was crying in his bathtub.

Wait, she was crying?

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… to…" Her voice was ragged, maybe from a lack of use, and so soft as she curled up to cover her body from his view. "I'm sorry. I'll change back. I'm sorry."

Erik found himself reaching for her, and she flinched just before his fingers could brush against her skin. Not fur, but real skin. He'd really hoped with everything he had that this was a hallucination or something. Anything but her being a shapeshifter.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, pulling his hand back as she curled in on herself even more. He listened to her cry, how she begged so quietly for mercy.

"Please." She sniffed and lifted her head just enough to look into his eyes. It was those same honey-colored eyes that the cat had. "Please don't hurt me."

"Hey, now," he said gently. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." It took her several minutes to calm down enough to speak to him clearly. And in that time, Erik simply knelt on the floor and got a washcloth ready for her to clean the leftover pancake mix off of herself. She made no move to do it though. Not even when her tears dried and she was wracked with only the occasional trembling sniffle.

"Y-You really won't… hurt me?"

"I really won't hurt you." He let out a quiet sigh and dipped the washcloth into the shallow water. "Can you tell me what you are?" He knew the truth, but she'd been a cat for an entire month without shifting once. Well, that he'd seen. Had she waited to see what his schedule was, and then shifted into a human while he wasn't around? Had she maybe waited for him to go to sleep or to leave for work in the morning, and then turned into a human and walked around his home when he couldn't catch her in the act?

She drew back slightly when he tried to hand her the washcloth, and that was when he noticed the nearly glowing golden shade of her hair, and just how long it was. It hung well past her hips, with several inches drifting lazily in the water around her. And there at the top of her head sat a pair of little cat ears. They were small enough to be hidden by her hair, if she really tried. All she would need to do was pull her hair up into one of those beautifully mussed buns that women always put their hair in while they were in a rush.

"I'm a…" She hesitated then, and he completely understood why she was scared to admit it out loud. "A shapeshifter. I'm the same as the others, but… a little different, I guess."

"How did you stay a cat for so long?" he asked. "How did I not see you shift?"

There was just the smallest, inhuman lift to the corners her lips. He couldn't help but look at them more closely. Her upper lip was just a little fuller than most people's, a little more feline. It wasn't by much, and he probably wouldn't have noticed it at all if he wasn't sitting right next to her, scrutinizing every detail. Searching for something that set her apart from a normal human.

"I can be a cat for as long as I want," she said. "I prefer being an animal, actually."

"Wh-What… I mean, how…" He vaguely gestured to her body, never looking away from her face.

"The water," she said. He watched in his peripherals as she reached forward and splashed her shaking fingers over the surface. "If you put enough on one of us, we'll change right there."

Erik shook his head and dipped the washcloth in the water again. He tried handing it to her after wringing out the excess, but she just stared at him. She didn't try to take it, but at least she didn't flinch when his hand came closer to her. She needed to get herself cleaned up, that was for sure, but if she wasn't going to do it herself, then he'd just have to do it for her.

Well, assuming she actually let him do it.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked. "I was just scared of shifting…"

"You didn't hurt me." He dipped the washcloth in the water again and slowly lifted it until it hovered over her arm. "Is it okay if I clean you up?" She nodded. They were silent for a moment, both watching his hand as he brought the cloth to her arm. Erik made sure he was gentle as he wiped from her shoulder to her elbow. She was really a shifter. Fuck, this wasn't good. If anyone found out that he had a shifter in his home, he'd be arrested. And she would be taken by the STF. It instantly reminded him of how he'd even found her in the first place. That skinny man in his boxers who lived in this building. He'd been kicking her in the hallway.

" _Like fuck am I getting arrested for your ass!"_

He'd found out her secret, and he'd tried to kill her over it.

"That was why that guy hurt you," he finally said while wringing the cloth out over her hair. He was mesmerized by the way her little cat ears twitched when the water touched them.

"He was my roommate." She propped her chin on her knees and stared down at the water. "He thought I was just a recluse with a certified pet cat."

"How did he find out?" Erik leaned forward and tenderly scrubbed her shoulders, then her back.

"I was about to cook some noodles," she said. "I always cooked and then ate in my room, so I could be comfortable."

"You mean, as a cat," he said. He'd always thought shapeshifters preferred being human. But she'd said that she preferred being an animal. Was that what made her different from others like her?

She nodded again, then stretched her legs out at his gentle insistence. While he started cleaning her feet, she said, "When I was putting the pot on the stove to boil the water, it hit the counter and spilled all over me. He was getting a sandwich at the time, so he saw me get wet… And…"

"And you shifted right in front of him."

"Yeah." He could feel her eyes on him when he hesitated before carefully washing away the powder from her collarbones, then down to her breasts and stomach. For someone who was such a lean cat, she sure had some curves on her as a human. Her stomach was taut and firm, and her legs were thin, toned. The dip of her waist threw him for a loop though, because it made her large breasts and hips seem more pronounced. Erik couldn't stop himself from picturing what it would be like to have his face buried between her breasts. And then he shut that train of thought right down. He didn't need to ogle her. Nothing would come of it anyway. Humans and shifters couldn't be together. It wasn't allowed. It was actually fucking illegal. Besides, even if she was allowing him to clean her, that didn't mean he had permission to stare at her body and imagine any number of lewd things he could do with her.

"Will you make me leave?" she asked. He set the washcloth to the side, his brow furrowing when she grabbed one of his hands with both of hers. He looked down at her hands. They were so much smaller than his. This woman was so delicate. So fragile. His eyes narrowed in confusion when he saw that the tips of her fingers. She didn't have fingernails. Where those should have been was just clear, pale skin that matched the rest of her. She drew back her hands when he didn't say anything, self-consciously tucking them against her stomach. "One time, I had a master who declawed me. Turns out, they don't grow back when I'm like this."

"There's no room for another person here," he said. "It's a one bedroom."

He wasn't going to let the dejected look in her eyes affect him while she stared down at his bared forearms. But then she perked up. She smiled just a little bit and her eyes brightened. "I can be your cat," she said. "I won't get in your way, and I don't eat much. I can even use the toilet while I'm a cat, so you don't have to worry about a litter box smelling up the place."

That explained how she'd been relieving herself without the paper he'd put on the floor for her.

"And I'm quiet," she continued. "I don't shed, and I can't claw up the furniture, and-"

He pressed his fingers to her lips to silence her. Those things were all well and good, but there was another problem. A few of them, actually. The most obvious of those problems didn't need to be said. They both knew he couldn't keep her around, because she was a shapeshifter. Instead, he said, "I don't like cats."

Her shoulders slumped. "But I like it here," she whispered. "You're nice to me."

He wasn't going to admit that he liked having her there when she was a cat. She was really good company. Erik looked away and pulled the plug to drain the bath.

"You don't… please… Can't I stay?" she begged. "I can try to be another animal instead. Whatever you want me to be."

They both knew it didn't work that way. Each shapeshifter had an affinity. One animal they were most comfortable shifting into. Sure, she could probably turn herself into a dog or a snake or even a pig, but she wouldn't be able to hold the form for more than an hour before shifting back to a human. And apparently, this woman could be a cat indefinitely. Why would she be willing to put herself through that hassle, just so she could stay?

"Why are you so desperate to stay with me?" he asked. "You could be living your own life." Why would she want to be _his_ cat when she could pass for a human pretty well and move out to the country where people weren't as judgmental over how _human_ someone was?

She sighed and didn't answer him. When he thought about it, she didn't need to answer. He already knew. Any shifter who was found out was either killed by some so-called _do-gooder_ \- like she'd almost been - or picked up by the STF and shipped off to what the government claimed was a quarantined continent. Everyone knew the truth though. Shapeshifters were either experimented on, or executed. It was all just one big fairy tale that the news stations told to the general populace. But people like him, the ones who had been alive when the Shifter Raids started… they remembered.

He remembered.

Erik remembered them broadcasting the executions on the nightly news. He remembered people in his town being taken from their homes, tied to the bumpers of huge STF vans, then dragged down the street until they left bloody streaks on the pavement.

She sniffled and wrung out her hair, then crawled out of the tub. He stood and took a step back to give her a little space, his head tilting curiously when she tried to stand up. Except she stumbled into the wall instead. Erik tried to help her, but she just shrugged him off. "It's okay," she said. "I'll leave. I'm sorry for bothering you. But…"

Her eyes were so kind when she looked up at him again. Her smile was so tender, so grateful. Her ears twitched on top of her head.

"Thanks for taking care of me," she whispered.

Erik was silent as she struggled just to limp out of the bathroom. He opened the nearby cabinet and grabbed a towel, then followed her out to the living room. She could barely walk as it was. Even as a cat, she had a hard time walking. She nearly fell again by the coffee table that he always had to shoo her off of - and then promptly gave up when he realized she wasn't going to stop lying on it - and he finally couldn't take it anymore. Erik pulled her to a stop with the towel wrapped around her shoulders. "Just stop for a minute," he said. She didn't pull away from him. Slowly, after making sure she could stay standing on her own, he circled around her so he could look into her eyes. His hand lifted of its own accord and his thumb brushed over her thin, quivering lower lip. "You can barely get out of my apartment. How are you gonna get anywhere else?"

"My knee just hurts a bit," she whimpered. "I'll m-manage."

Erik shook his head at her. If he was found harboring a shifter, he'd be arrested. Maybe even executed. They both knew that his hands were tied in this. She couldn't stay with him. She had to go. Except, all he kept seeing when he looked down at her right then were scared jade eyes instead of brown, with reptilian pupils instead of the slightly slitted feline ones he'd yet to notice.

"No eating off my plate," he finally said. "But I'll let you sleep in my bed. And if you like being pet, then I guess I can do that, too. But don't be obnoxious about it."

He saw her bright honey eyes as they widened and filled with tears. "You mean…"

Finally, Erik smirked. "Maybe I could get you one of those magnetic collars, so you don't choke to death if you shift on accident. And you can take it off yourself before you shift."

Her lips lifted in an even wider smile than before. Neither of them noticed that the towel around her shoulders slipped to the floor. "You'd… get me a collar?" she asked. He could hear the excitement in her voice. He could feel it charging in the air around them. "I'd be yours?"

"I guess you would be," he said with a shrug. "But maybe we should get you some clothes, too. Just in case."

She shook her head and crinkled her nose, and he was sure - had she been a cat right then - that her hackles would have raised up with distaste. "I hate clothes," she hissed. "They're too tight."

"Well, you can't be naked all the time when you're like this."

"I could wear your clothes!" She looked so happy, Erik couldn't tell her no. It would save money if he didn't have to buy women's clothing, and she was much shorter than him. Her frame was smaller. She could wear his clothing with no issues.

"Fine," he chuckled. "When you're like this, you can wear my clothes."

She laughed and shot forward to hug him with her arms around his shoulders. It was then that he realized her towel was missing. Erik pulled back quickly and picked up the towel. He wrapped it around her again, still smiling when she bounced with excitement. "Let's get you dried off, okay?"

She nodded and stood completely still while he dried her off instead of trying to do it herself. "Why are you doing this for me?" she asked.

He was silent for a moment while he knelt by her feet. His hands paused in drying her leg, and his gaze lowered to the floor. "Before the government started collecting your kind," he said softly, "When I was a kid, I had a friend named Kinana. She was taken from my house by the STF in the first of the Raids."

"She was like me?"

He nodded. "Her affinity was a snake. I was only seven at the time, and I tried to convince them that she was just my pet."

They'd heard their parents talking about the news just that morning, and Kinana - whose parents were both human - had been taken to Erik's house to hide. He'd put her in a terrarium that was set up as though she was any other pet snake.

"The STF came into my house, and they took her. They didn't believe me, said someone had tipped them off…"

He didn't find out until years later that it had been his own parents who'd called to say they had a shifter hiding in their house. They'd told him that they wanted to protect him from getting mixed up with _their kind_. The day he'd found out, nearly a decade later, Erik had left home and never looked back. Like hell was he going to stay with people like that, who'd had his best friend ripped from his grasp and carted off like some kind of savage beast.

"They had this… taser," he said. Finally he looked up into her saddened eyes. "They shot Kinana with it, and she shifted right then and there."

He still remembered so clearly how the terrarium had shattered. How she'd bled from little scrapes here and there while she convulsed on the floor. He'd gathered her in his arms, uncaring of her nudity, and tried to shield her body from the men who rushed his bedroom. One man wrapped an arm around his throat while another grabbed Kinana by the hair and pulled her away from him. He still remembered how she'd reached for him, how he tried to reach for her, while she was dragged out of his bedroom. He remembered the way he'd cried in his parents' arms when she was gone, not knowing that they were the ones who'd betrayed him.

"They took her after that, and I never saw her again." He stood and wrapped the towel around her hair to finish drying it. "I guess… maybe I want to protect someone the way I couldn't protect her…"

"Really?"

He shrugged then. "I dunno. It sounds stupid if I say it out loud." He jolted when her arms wrapped around him again and her nose gently nudged his jaw.

"Can I have a tag, too?" she asked. "Just like a real cat?"

Slowly, he smiled and hugged her back. He ignored her nakedness, and the flush on his cheeks. "Well, what should it say? In case you haven't noticed, I never gave you a name."

She rubbed her face along his flushed cheek, and he found himself chuckling when she licked him. It was strange. Her tongue didn't feel like sandpaper like this. "My name is Lucy… Master," she whispered.

Before he could say anything about how she didn't need to call him Master, she disappeared in another puff of pink smoke. One moment, he was hugging her, and the next, the little blonde cat was sitting on the floor in front of him. Staring up at him with her soulful brown eyes.

Erik smiled, truly smiled, while he picked Lucy up. He carried her back to the kitchen and held her in one arm while cleaning up the counter. He set her down and went about cleaning the mess that had been made from her intense desire to eat pancake mix. "Let's try breakfast again." He chuckled when she meowed at him.

" _This just in, there has been an attack on the main STF compound in the capital. Sources say that a group of renegade Shifters have broken in and begun killing STF agents. They are armed with explosives and rifles. One source says they're also shifting to increase the kill count. The death toll is currently at 45. All surrounding streets have been barricaded."_

Erik frowned and picked Lucy up again, then took her to the living room where the television was still playing the news. He sat down with her on his lap, and absently pet her while they both watched aerial footage of an enormous grey building with smoke billowing from several windows.

He looked down when he felt her tongue scratching over his forearm, and the tattoo he'd gotten in secret when he was sixteen of a pinup woman with a serpent head. His own silent, hidden support of shifter equality. He'd known a few other people to have gotten something similar over the years - an eagle with human legs, a kitten's face on a baby's body, even just a human dressed up as an animal - but it always stayed hidden. Just in case the STF had reason to believe they were sympathizers. Just having this tattoo could get him locked in prison.

"Lucy," Erik said softly, "If shifters were allowed to live with us freely, would you still want to be a pet?"

She turned to look at him, meowed, then rolled onto her back in his lap, offering him her stomach for a good scratching. He scratched under her chin and she meowed again. And when he felt her purring, Erik knew what she was trying to tell him.

"I'll get your collar on my way home from work tomorrow," he said while rubbing his hand over the fur on her belly. If the day ever came where shifters could live free from persecution, he'd let her go. If that was what she wanted, he'd let her go. But for the time being, he swore to himself to keep her safe.

 _ **.The End.**_


	4. Day 3: Night's New Mistress

**A/N: Are you guys enjoying this week as much as I am? I'm thinking these AUs were the breath of fresh air I needed in my life. The world-building alone… I could go on for days. But you're here for another story, so let's get on with it!**

 **I hope you'll dig my take on a Modern Vampire AU. I love reading vampire romance, and I just recently realized that I've yet to actually write anything with vampires. Shame!**

 **As a side note: This is one that I'll probably revisit in the future and make into a full story. Maybe. I had a lot of fun writing this, and it ended up being mostly just laying groundwork for something longer.**

 **As a second side note: This was originally only 9k. When I went in to revise it before CoLu Week started... I got a bit carried away. Hopefully, you'll enjoy the doubled length of this one!**

* * *

 **Day 3: Invite**

 ** _Night's New Mistress_**

 _Summary: When she woke up in a crypt, covered in blood, Lucy had no idea what had happened to her. All she knew was that there was a note pinned to her clothes, telling her to come to this address and speak with a "Mr. Cobra." Her night was already turning out to be strange, so what was the worst that could happen?_

* * *

 _"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!"_

Lucy winced at the harsh shouting coming from the other side of the door. She'd been there for all of ten minutes, and she could already tell that she wasn't welcome. But it wasn't her fault, really. She'd been hard-pressed to find the address written on the piece of paper pinned to her clothes when she'd woken up in that crypt. It was a little hard to make out everything, since there were bloody fingerprints obscuring some of the text, but she'd pieced it together. Of course, she'd made full use of the 26% charge on her phone battery to open up Google maps, find her location, and then curse technology when it promptly died before she could get the directions she'd needed. But Lucy was nothing, if not persistent. So she'd done what any smart person would do.

She went to the nearest Pizza Hut and asked them for directions. She had the address, after all. She just needed to know how to get there.

And she'd ended up at some mansion on the top of a hill overlooking the city. The exterior was constructed in the Brutalist style with large cubes of concrete and glass jutting out at random intervals that made the place look like a half-finished game of Jenga. She blamed Levy for knowing what the name of this particular architectural style even was.

 _"What the hell kind of bullshit is this, Bacchus?!"_

Lucy cringed. She didn't know that name, or why she'd been told to come to this place. But if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that waking up in a crypt, covered in blood, was an omen. Or a sign. Or something. Maybe.

She was just a little weirded out over her general lack of a reaction to the blood squishing between her toes and soaking through her socks, though.

Now that she thought about it, that was probably why the guy behind the counter at Pizza Hut had asked if she needed to get to a hospital. She'd told him no, she just needed to get to this address. It was a little disconcerting that he hadn't insisted on helping her get to a hospital. Maybe he'd assumed she was a psychopath, and was just trying to avoid getting a pickaxe to the face. She didn't even own a pickaxe. She had a great collection of industrial locks for newspaper boxes, though.

 _"No, I'm not gonna fucking teach her a goddamn thing!"_

The man who'd answered the door in his black slacks and red dress shirt - after she'd spent nearly ten minutes just trying to _find_ the door in the first place - hadn't looked all too thrilled with her presence. He'd looked downright murderous when she handed him the paper and asked for "Mister Cobra." But he'd ushered her in all the same and stuck her in this room with no furniture aside from a single rickety wooden chair in the corner, then left.

Lucy hadn't wanted to take any chances with the chair, so she'd opted to stand instead and stare at the blank slate grey walls. The cherry wood floor. The ceiling that was the same shade as the walls.

And she paced. From one end of the room to the other with her bloody sneakers squeaking incessantly, she walked in a figure eight. Then a nine. Then a fifteen just for shits and giggles. She needed something to do, after all, and listening to the man who'd brought her inside with nary a word - either in greeting or concerning her sudden impression of prom Carrie - aside from the screaming she was currently listening to through a door, was making her question her sanity. And his sanity, especially.

He hadn't really reacted to her being covered in blood. Maybe _he_ was an ax murderer. And she'd willingly found his house, searched for it. All because of some cryptic note pinned on her. In a crypt. Her eyes rolled skyward and she glared. "Really punny, universe," she muttered.

 _"You can't just fucking turn someone and send them here, you plebeian son of a whore!"_

Lucy paused in counting the wood grains and stared at the door, her mouth hanging open. Well, that was different.

 _"I will come down there, so help me fucking… No, asshole, I'm not gay! What the… I'm not fucking a goddamn baby!"_

At that point, Lucy wasn't sure what to think anymore. She didn't know who this Bacchus person was, but she didn't want to meet them if they were going to be suggesting getting down and dirty with infants. That was just disgusting.

 _"That's a low fucking blow and you know it!"_ he bellowed.

Lucy cringed when everything was silent on the other side of the door for several minutes.

 _"You owe me so goddamn much. You have no fucking clue how much you fucking owe me, asshole! You'd better believe I'll come fucking collecting too, because this is the last time I do any motherfucking favors for you!"_

She jumped when he threw something at the wall. She couldn't see what it was, but it definitely sounded as though it had hit hard enough to put a hole in the drywall.

 _"Motherfucker!"_

Lucy couldn't find it in herself to do much more than stare at the door as his footsteps came closer. And when he opened the door and glared out at her with his one indigo eye, her mouth ran dry. She hadn't really been able to take stock of his appearance before. He'd looked at her, invited her inside, then walked off once she was in this room. But now she could see him. Especially since he was walking out of that other room and right toward her. And he was positively seething.

"You're gonna be here for a while," he said. There was just a hint of an accent coloring his deep voice, and it rolled over her skin in waves. He looked down at her feet and sneered. "There are no shoes allowed on in my house. You'll track in fuck only knows how many germs. It's vile."

Lucy let out a quiet squeak and kicked off her bloody sneakers. She peeled off her socks for good measure. The blood was starting to dry, and it was getting a little on the crunchy side. "So, uh… I have no idea-"

"Yeah, you don't know what's going on," he said with another sneer. His narrowed gaze raked over her from the blood-soaked roots of her hair down to her pink-painted toenails. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-four," she said. If he took her into another room with a video camera and a leather couch, she was out of here.

"Any family?"

"Dead," she said. Her parents had both died three years prior. Her mother's battle with her second round of cervical cancer had been vicious and long and tiring for everyone involved, but she'd finally given up two weeks after Lucy's twenty-first birthday. They'd all known it was coming, but her father spent three days mourning his wife's death before he died of a broken heart. Lucy hadn't known it was possible, but what had presented like a heart attack hadn't been one. There was no blockage in her father's heart, and his left ventricle had been inflated like a balloon. She'd had a feeling he wouldn't last long without her mother. They were soulmates.

"That works in our favor. Follow me." He turned and she did as he said. "You need a fucking shower. We'll talk then."

"Wait, what?" Did this asshole really think he was going to do anything while she was showering? They definitely wouldn't be talking. She was already starting to question just what was going on. Why she'd woken up covered in blood. Why there had been a note of all things telling her to come here. Why she'd listened instead of going home and washing up, then getting her ass down to the newspaper plant to fill her '97 Tahoe with newspapers. "What time is it anyway?"

He glared at her over his shoulder. "It's gonna be a long night. I'm not spending the rest of eternity talking about this shit."

"About what shit?" she asked. He continued walking, forcing her to follow him. She didn't notice anything off about the décor, or the other people milling about the house. She didn't see them at all, far too focused on following the tanned man with dark crimson hair who was leading her to a bathroom. If she'd been more aware of her surroundings, then Lucy would have felt the three pairs of crimson eyes watching her from a darkened corridor.

* * *

They didn't talk while she'd been showering. Lucy was left alone. Again. Luckily, it was because this Mister Cobra person realized that her jeans and oversized, newsprint-stained shirt were soaked in blood. She needed a change of clothes. Luckily, Lucy had enough brain cells to ask if he had a charger that she could use for her phone. She sure hoped he did, because she needed to call Gray, the sub for her route, and ask him to run it that night. She wouldn't be using her truck, so he could borrow it as long as he filled the tank back up.

It was just too bad that she relied on her phone so much. She didn't have his number memorized. Damn technology making her brain lazy and complacent!

She was forced to walk out into the adjoining bedroom in only a towel. Mister Cobra was there, though, and sitting on an ornate lounge that was probably worth three years of her entire meager salary delivering newspapers. He gestured to a large four-panel dressing screen in the corner of the room, and Lucy ducked her head and rushed behind it. Luckily, there were clothes there. Well, a forest green shift dress with silver embroidery on the hems, but still. She'd have to make do with no underwear.

"So, I'm sure you have some questions," he said while she pulled the dress on.

"I really do," she said.

"I'll tell you right now, I'm gonna be blunt. I don't want to hear any crying or screaming about the unfairness of the world. This is how it is, and there's literally no changing it."

Lucy frowned and came around the screen. She took a seat beside him on the lounge, leaving as much space as she could between them as was socially acceptable for sitting beside a stranger in an unfamiliar bedroom after waking up covered in blood from some unknown source and trekking through the city at midnight to their mansion. One foot. That was the acceptable distance. "... Okay?"

He let out a long-suffering sigh through his nose. His gaze pierced through her. She kind of wondered if he was always this intense. He needed an off-switch for that, because it was starting to give her the creeps. "You're a vampire."

She blinked.

"You were made into a vampire by some of Bacchus' followers, and I swear…" His eye closed for a moment, and she watched, dumbfounded by the news, as his jaw tensed. "I am going to murder the fuck out of him for this bullshit."

"I'm a vampire," she said slowly.

"You are. And don't give me any shit about not believing me. I don't feel like dealing with-"

"Sweet!"

He paused. And it was his turn to stare at her as she laughed and stared down at herself in wonder. "What?"

"I'm a vampire?" she asked, grinning at him. "Seriously?"

"... Yes?"

"Awesome!" She bounced in her seat, but it didn't last long. Lucy vaulted to her feet and rounded on him. "So, what can I do? Ooh, can I turn into a bat and fly around?"

"What? No!"

She frowned at that, then shrugged. "No biggie. I'm kind of afraid of heights…"

He stared at her in horror, maybe bewilderment. She didn't really care. She was a fucking vampire. They were real. She was one of them. That had to explain the blood. Oh, she was latching onto this, because it explained a whole hell of a lot of the weirdness of her night.

"What about mirrors? Damn, I can still see myself in a mirror, right?" She couldn't remember having looked in a mirror since waking up. Lucy was tempted to dash back into the bathroom to see if the mirror was still fogged up. She _needed_ a mirror in her life. How would she check for those unruly pre-period pimples? Wait, would she even get a period anymore? Was undead menopause a thing?

"Mirrors reflect light off of objects," he said. "Do I look like I'm invisible? Honestly."

She stopped bouncing in place and frowned at him. "Sunlight?"

"It's just uncomfortable," he said. "Imagine the Weasleys visiting Barbados in July without sunscreen."

Lucy shuddered. There went tanning for her, but spray tans were a thing. She could always go that route. Especially since she was one of the undead now. Anything to avoid that sickly pallor. "Crosses?" She wasn't really religious or anything, but she needed to cover her bases. It would give her a good reason to avoid churches.

"Bullshit. We're not evil."

Her head tilted to the side. He'd said _we_ … "Are you a vampire, too?"

"I am."

"How old are you?"

"I'd already been a vampire for a century when the Spanish Inquisition started." So that was... the 1500s? 1400s? Lucy sucked at history. She knew some of the big dates for things. Pearl Harbor, 1941. Great Depression, 1929. The first Chic-fil-a store opened, 1967.

"Are we undead?"

"No, I can hear your heart racing right now."

She wasn't one of the undead? How was that even possible? Vampires were humans who'd been killed and brought back to life with black magic. But this man didn't have any reason to lie to her, did he? Maybe he did, though. Maybe she'd jumped the gun with her excitement. There was a reason people thought vampires were nothing more than myths.

Her eyes narrowed and she took a step back. "How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"You don't."

"Well, how do I know this isn't all some elaborate hoax just to lull me into a state of complicity, and then you'll rape and murder me, and then I'll wind up on the evening news?" Obviously, that was the most likely scenario.

"... First of all, ew," he said, crossing one leg over the other. "You're a baby. Second of all, murdering people is the last thing on my mind, unless their name is fucking Bacchus. That asshole has been a thorn in my goddamn side since we were five."

"Five centuries old?"

"Years. I knew him when we were human. He was a pain in my ass then, and he's an even bigger pain in my ass now."

Her brows furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"Prove you're a vampire. Hell, prove that _I'm_ a vampire." If he couldn't prove it, then she was going to grab her phone and run the fuck out of this place. She'd jump through a window if she had to. There was one lining an entire wall of this bedroom. She'd fucking do it.

"You seem oddly alright with all of this."

Lucy shrugged. "I'm a millennial. I'm jaded."

He rolled his eye at her then. "Fine, how would you like me to prove it?"

"Don't you have fangs for, like, leeching off of people's life force or something?" He stared at her even harder than before. "Y'know, drinking blood?"

He blinked slowly. "Wow." Still his lips parted, and she leaned forward just enough to peer inside his mouth. Lucy stared so intently at his teeth that she didn't notice how he rolled up one sleeve and cut his wrist with his nail.

She felt it though. It wasn't something orgasmic that called to her like a siren. Instead it was painful, like she'd swallowed a bag of snakes and they were trying to eat their way out of her stomach. He swiped his finger over the cut and lifted it so she could see how it dripped down to his knuckle. That was when the pain worsened. It shot from her stomach up into her mouth and settled in her front teeth. She couldn't tell which ones, but it hurt almost as much as when she'd had to get her wisdom teeth removed a year prior. That sharp, throbbing pain nearly blinded her. She wasn't able to focus on anything but his finger, so she didn't miss how his hand shot forward and grabbed her chin with what felt like enough force to break her jaw. "Ow!" she screeched. "Let go!"

"It's gonna hurt more if I don't do this." That was all the warning he gave before his fingers were in her mouth, ripping out her canines. As any strong independent woman would do in this scenario, Lucy screamed. She screamed bloody murder, and it didn't faze him in the slightest. Even with his death grip on her face, her knees buckled beneath her. "Or maybe it hurts less if they fall out on their own," he muttered when he saw the tears dripping down onto her cheeks.

Her eyes clenched as the throbbing intensified. She wasn't sure how long it lasted before he let go of her face. It felt like an eternity spent kneeling in front of this man she didn't know, waiting for the pain to just stop. She spit out a mouthful of blood right onto the carpet. She didn't fucking care if it stained as she pressed a hand to her mouth. Maybe with enough pressure, it would stop hurting. Then again, she could still smell _his_ blood in the air. Lucy glared up at him through her tears, silently cursing his very existence. Wasn't it just poor manners to rip out someone's teeth when you barely even knew them? Couldn't he have at least offered her a last meal before he started to torture her?

Maybe this was his version of foreplay. She'd been stupid enough to believe everything up until that point, and now he was going to make her into his dungeon-dwelling sex slave. He'd rip out the rest of her teeth to make it easier to force her to give him blowjobs. Ooh, Lucy hated him so fucking much.

"And this is why I can't stand babies," he sighed. He uncrossed his legs and spread them around her still kneeling form. She watched as he put his wrist to his lips - she hadn't even noticed that his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows before then - and bit down. She didn't see any fangs, though. Vampires were supposed to have fangs. Then again, he paused after letting go of his wrist, and when he pulled it away, his mouth was closed. Before she knew what was happening, his wrist was in her mouth. She swallowed, and swallowed again, and each drop of crimson liquid that danced over her tongue dulled the pain just a little bit. "Now, take your time, and I'll explain. Don't suck too hard. You're not trying to give me a damn hickey."

Her cheeks flamed and she followed his instruction.

"Can you listen right now?"

She barely nodded. She didn't want to let go long enough to give him a proper answer. He seemed to understand though, because they both slowly adjusted until she was left kneeling between his spread legs, leaning against the lounge, and his forearm rested on his thigh so she could easily reach it. Lucy didn't even mind all that much when his other hand came to rest on her hair and his fingers scraped over her scalp in a gentle, soothing rhythm.

She was kind of wondering why she wasn't ravenous, though. And why he was giving her his own blood. If she was already a vampire, then shouldn't she be drinking human blood? Or was he actually turning her right then? Or maybe it was all a farce, and he was some stranger who'd set up an elaborate scheme to get her to his house so he could satisfy his blood kink.

If that was the case, then this was entirely her fault for following the directions on that note.

"We can still eat food," he said. "Think of this as a dietary supplement. You'll have to find another vampire to drink from if you want any actual nourishment from it. Human blood is too weak."

That only left her with more questions. Like how she was turned in the first place. Wouldn't a vampire have bitten her and drank her blood, maybe made her drink its blood in return? She still really wanted to know why she'd woken up in that crypt, too.

"We don't have magic, but we're pretty athletically inclined. Running, jumping, faster healing. We can see in the dark, too, so that's a bonus." He shifted slightly when her fingers brushed across the inside of his elbow, and she glanced up at his face only to find a slight blush on his cheeks while he glared at the wall. "What am I forgetting?" he mumbled to himself. "There's so much shit you people have made up over the years…"

It took all of her willpower to pull away from his wrist long enough to speak. "Stake through the heart?"

His free hand wrapped around the back of her head and forced her mouth onto his wrist again. "Drink, dumbass," he spat. "The pain's stopped for now, but it'll start right back up until those little baby fangs of yours grow in. And _this_ is helping speed that up." As soon as she started sucking again, he continued petting her. "You're lucky I'm as old as I am. It'd take even longer if you were feeding off a newer vampire."

Lucy just hummed and allowed it to happen. She was barely getting anything out of his wrist anymore, so maybe he was already starting to heal. It wasn't a conscious thought to bite him. She just did it, and she heard the way he hissed. She felt his muscles tense as her jaw locked onto his flesh.

"Fuck you and your stupid, blunt human teeth," he snarled. He pressed her head harder against his wrist, and she knew the exact moment when her teeth finally broke through his skin. The way his whole body relaxed when she sucked was odd though. Did this part feel good for him?

She kind of wondered why she wasn't madly in love with the taste of his blood though. It was actually a little gross. Watery and bitter, like a melted down mouthful of pennies. The taste left something to be desired, but as it trickled down her throat it definitely left her feeling more refreshed.

"A stake through the heart," he sighed. "It's about as effective as stabbing a stake into a human, so yeah. It'll kill us. Holy water's actually effective. Holy weapons too, but in this day and age who the fuck is gonna be carrying around an axe blessed by a god? No one, that's who. But it's only holy weapons from a deity who's not aligned with Osiris. Complicated as hell. And it changes over time when the gods make different alliances."

He sure liked to ramble. She didn't really fault him for it though. He was apparently teaching her what she needed to know to survive. Wait, did that mean God actually existed? And there was more than one? Holy shit, she was starting to rethink some things now.

"Enough talk for now," he said after a moment. "Just keep drinking."

When she glanced up at him after a few minutes spent in silence, she found his head tipped back on the lounge and his eye closed. Lucy wondered if he fell asleep.

"Bite me again," he mumbled without looking at her. "It's closing up."

When she bit down again, he didn't react nearly as badly. His arm tensed under her teeth, but it was already easier to pierce his flesh.

* * *

What Lucy hadn't expected in the slightest was the high she felt after drinking so much of his blood. Maybe it hadn't been more than a pint, maybe not even that much. It felt as though she'd been there for hours, suckling at his wrist and draining him dry. Everything tingled from the roots of her hair to the tips of her fingers. Every brush of cloth over her skin was uncomfortable. The dress she'd been given was already a soft cotton, but it was suddenly far too rough. It was itchy. She wanted to tear off her shoulders from how badly it scratched against them.

"Why are you squirming?"

She looked up at him and finally pulled her lips from his wrist. "The dress…" And the rug biting into her knees. And the way his pants brushed across her forearm. The only thing that wasn't uncomfortable was the still-steady rhythm of his fingers in her hair. She was sure it had been at least twenty minutes, and he'd yet to stop stroking her hair like this.

He let out a slow breath, and she noticed the lazy little turn to one corner of his lips. "It's been a while since I've handled a baby myself," he chuckled. "Let's get you to bed. You'll be more comfortable."

She sat back on her heels when he leaned forward, watching as he stood. Lucy took the hand he offered and stood with all the grace of a college girl at three in the morning on Saint Patrick's Day. It was pretty embarrassing when she stumbled right into his chest. But then her cheek brushed against the soft silk of his shirt, and she was sure she'd found heaven. Her eyes were heavy-lidded when she looked up at him. Maybe a high wasn't the right word at all. Maybe she was drunk, after all. Drunk on him. Oh, that sounded bad. Lucy bit her lips for a moment, then winced as her new fangs grazed the inside of her mouth.

"None of that now," he said. His fingers brushed against her lips. "You took a lot out of me, and if you start bleeding I'm liable to bite you."

That sounded much more alluring than it should have. She hummed quietly and let him lead her away from the lounge with his arm draped around her shoulders to keep her steady. Instead of going to the bed that was only a few feet away, he turned them toward the door. "Where are we going?"

"My room," he said. "My sheets are silk. Trust me, you'll be fidgeting all day if you try resting in this bed."

She paused when they reached the door, frowning up at him. "You want me to lay in your bed."

"Yes."

"With you?"

"Yes. I'm exhausted." He did seem a bit tired, now that she was looking at him more closely. But why wouldn't he just put some silk sheets on the bed in this room, then leave her there? He could go to his own room to rest if he needed it.

"I don't even know your name," she whispered.

He snorted then and rolled his eye. "You showed up here looking for a _Mister Cobra_ , remember?"

"And your name is really Cobra?" She wasn't sure if she could believe that. He'd said he was born before the Spanish Inquisition. People in that time weren't named _Cobra_.

"No, that's what people call me. Bacchus won't let that shit go." Her knees went just a little wobbly when he smirked down at her. It was entirely the high-drunk feeling she had. It had absolutely nothing to do with the way he was looking at her. Nothing at all. "My name is Erik."

"Lucy," she said. He'd never even asked her name. From what she'd heard of his phone conversation through the door, he was doing this Bacchus person a favor by taking her under his wing. He didn't have to do any of this for her. He'd agreed to teach her, not even knowing something like her name. Or who she was.

"You look like a Lucy," he said. Erik opened the door a crack, then paused when she stumbled. "You alright?"

Lucy giggled. She couldn't help herself. Her feet wouldn't work right. She was ready to take this stupid dress off and rub her whole body on his shirt just to get rid of the crawling sensation under her skin. But that wasn't going to happen. Even with the discomfort, her body was thrumming with energy, begging to be put through its paces. She was a little curious about what she was actually capable of now. Good god, she'd be able to do her newspaper route so easily with the strength she could already feel in her muscles. Those ten pound bundles of Sunday newspapers on Christmas morning would be a breeze!

Then again, if she could barely manage walking… Lucy seriously doubted she'd be able to run any marathons.

Erik surprised her by stepping in front of her and crouching down. "Hop on."

There wasn't even a modicum of grace left in her as she clambered onto his back and wrapped her legs around his waist. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and smiled when his hands wrapped around her thighs. God, his hands felt wonderful. Like tiny, little, itty bitty lightning storms in the shapes of long fingers and smooth palms. And when he opened the door the rest of the way, when he took the first step out of the room, she felt the silk of his shirt rubbing against her thighs, between her legs. The only thing that ruined it was his belt digging into her crotch. Her naked crotch. Oh, good Lord… she'd forgotten that she didn't have any underwear on.

Lucy wanted to ask him to wait so she could at least grab her panties. But when she turned her head to do just that, she smelled his hair. She hadn't known vampires would use Old Spice. "You smell yummy…"

"I swear, if you bite me again-" His footsteps faltered when she struck his neck with a soft moan. "You don't need anymore right now, Lucy," he breathed. "Let go."

Her eyes slid open at the sound of several masculine voices laughing just in front of them. And Lucy found three pairs of humor-filled crimson eyes staring back at her from three very different men.

"Looks like someone forgot what it's like being a baby," said the shortest of the three men, smirking with his black-painted lips. She wasn't sure what to look at first, his two-tone white and black hair, the goth-glam look he was actually rocking with confidence, or his makeup.

"No shit, Midnight," snorted the second. Lucy found herself mesmerized by the piercings lining his brows and the bridge of his nose, and his long raven hair pulled up into a high ponytail. He looked muscular enough to bench press three of that Midnight person. "Cobra, man, you know she'll keep feeding on yer ass for the next week."

The third man cackled. He actually cackled. Lucy's gaze slid over to him and she bit down again when Erik's skin started healing. Apparently her new fangs weren't doing a good enough job to puncture very deep. What she found staring back at her was a tall man, almost as muscular as the second, with a blue mohawk and a little person tattooed in the center of his face. And a long tongue hanging from his mouth while he laughed. Cackled. That was most definitely cackling.

"Which means we get to be on rotation," Midnight sighed. "Gajeel will get your room set up with food. Bickslow, get drinks. I'll make sure you've got towels and sheets and... " He paused and stared at Lucy for a minute. She nearly squirmed under his penetrating stare. His eyes narrowed slightly. Was he glaring at her? "Clothes for her. You strike me as a Bohemian Gypsy style kind of woman."

Her eyes lit up and she tried to nod, only for Erik to groan and put his hand on her head to keep her still. She wondered how he knew what style she liked. It wasn't as though her jeans and t-shirt and faded sneakers combo really screamed _Bohemian Gypsy_. Maybe the dress she was wearing? But that was what Erik had given her.

The cackling man just nodded and walked off, still laughing the whole time. He didn't say a word otherwise. Did he even know how to speak?

Erik swayed just a little when Lucy sucked harder. "Damnit, don't fucking do it like that."

She lessened the pressure and bit him instead. Her teeth went deeper this time, and she felt the groan he let out vibrate against her chest. When she started carefully pulling more blood from his neck, he tried to take another step. And nearly crashed them both into a wall. She wanted to pull back and ask if he was alright, if he needed her to stop until they got to his room, but then she tasted something tangy in his blood that was more than the normal coppery flavor. It was spicy and rich, and washed across her mouth like the tide. She inhaled sharply and sucked harder. Whatever _that_ taste was, she liked it. And she definitely wanted more of it.

"Damn," Gajeel chuckled, "Try not to get too excited, Cobra."

"Shut up," Erik muttered. "She's doing it…" Was he panting? His fingers tightened around her thighs for a second. "... Really hard…"

"You know you can't bite her right now," Midnight said. "She's too young. And with how much you'd probably take, it could kill her." He and Gajeel came to assist Cobra by standing on either side of him. When it was clear that he wasn't planning on walking anymore - maybe because he couldn't bring himself to do it - the two tried to carefully pry Lucy from his back. "Miss, if you can just wait a minute-"

Lucy surprised herself by the growl she let out when their hands came closer. But just because she didn't want these two to pull her off of Erik, didn't mean they would stop. They were stronger than her, and probably already more used to being vampires. Well, if they were vampires, that is.

Gajeel snarled, and she saw the fangs that Erik hadn't even showed her. She was just a little surprised to see that he couldn't even properly close his mouth with how long those fangs were. And when she looked at Midnight, his own fangs were bared as well, except they were much smaller than Gajeel's, more delicate in appearance but probably no less deadly. She was in for a world of pain, but she didn't want to let go of Erik's throat. The tang to his blood increased tenfold in tandem with the palpable danger in the air.

"Let go, Lucy," Erik said gently. His voice was colder, darker when he spoke again. "And you two, fuck off. You're scaring her."

"Sure doesn't seem fuckin' scared," Gajeel said. "Seems like the baby wants to find out what she got herself into."

"She didn't get herself into anything," Erik said slowly. He leaned back to sandwich Lucy between himself and a nearby wall, then reached up to gently stroke her hair. When she took that as a sign to keep going, to sate her hunger, his other hand tightened its grip on her thigh. He took a deep breath. "Some of Bacchus' cult assholes kidnapped her while she was walking up to her apartment. They did the ritual to _sacrifice_ her, so their _lord and master_ could have a bride or some stupid bullshit."

Gajeel laughed along with Midnight. "That's the dumbest fuckin' thing I've ever heard!"

"Bacchus isn't ever going to get married, and especially not to her," Midnight nodded. "You, on the other hand…"

"Shut the fuck up," Erik spat. "I'm not doing a damn thing with a baby!" Lucy frowned and bit him harder than was strictly necessary, and he slapped her thigh in return. "Don't you get sassy with me. If you'll let go long enough to get to my room, then you can suck my ass dry. I literally can't fucking move with you like this."

Lucy hummed her question of why, but Erik didn't get a chance to respond before Gajeel cut in.

"He probably didn't tell ya, but being fed on is kind of a turn on."

Her eyes widened and she let go of Erik's neck completely. That wasn't what she'd been expecting in the slightest. Though, it did explain why he'd looked so relaxed when she was feeding from his wrist before. And probably why his feet hadn't wanted to work with him when she'd been stuck to his back like a leech. Oh god, was her feeding on him like this essentially the same as giving him a blowjob? It wouldn't be the first time she'd sucked first and asked questions later, but still...

"Look down," Gajeel smirked. "He's got a fuckin' rager."

"Shut up, asshole," Erik growled.

Lucy's legs slid out of his grip, and she carefully stood on her own two feet behind him. When Erik turned toward her, she made a point of only looking him in the eye. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, I doubt he was uncomfortable," Gajeel said.

"Not helping, Gajeel," Midnight sighed.

"Was I doing it wrong?" Lucy asked. She looked from Erik to Gajeel, then over to Midnight who was still glaring at her. More precisely, his gaze was set on her mouth. "Or maybe just too much?"

"You're fine," Erik said softly. He carefully swiped a drop of blood from her lower lip, then smirked at her while sucking it from his thumb. "We'll need to work on you not making a mess, though."

Her cheeks flamed and her shoulders hunched in on themselves just a little. Just enough for Erik to pick up that she was embarrassed. But how could she not be? There were two other vampires right here, and they were all looking at her as though she was an idiot. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know much about this - or anything, considering how many things she'd been wrong about when she and Erik had talked before.

There was only so much information she'd had access to. Like the entire fucking internet. But it was full of misinformation, apparently. Why wasn't there a vampire wiki with the shit people like her needed to know? Maybe there was. Maybe it was just password protected, or like the Dark Web. Maybe the password was something like _Nosferatu_. No, that was dumb.

Just as dumb as she was. God, she needed to get herself under control. Her arms wrapped around her waist in a tight embrace. "I'm okay to walk now, I think…"

He nodded and pulled her into his side, then turned away from Gajeel and Midnight. "Get everything ready," he told them over his shoulder. "And then leave me and Lucy the hell alone until I call one of you."

"Yer lucky he's got a TV in there," Gajeel called out. "Cobra's the most boring motherfucker in the world."

"Fuck you, Gajeel!" Erik laughed.

She kept her head down while they walked. When they were out of sight of Midnight and Gajeel, he pulled her to a stop. "I'm really sorry," she said, staring at the floor.

"Nothing to be sorry for," he said. "It has been a while since I've dealt with a baby-"

She scowled up at him. "Stop calling me a baby. I'm an adult."

Erik shook his head and laughed. "We call all newly changed vampires _babies_. They have to learn everything all over again. How to deal with their strength, how to feed, our own laws. Taking on a newbie, like yourself, is essentially like raising a child."

"So, now I'm like your kid?" she asked.

"In a sense," he said. "If you go on a killing spree, it'll be my ass getting in trouble for not teaching you better."

She sighed and started walking again, then stopped when she felt his warm fingers wrapped around her elbow. She turned to look up at him.

"The only reason I agreed to this shit," he said, "Is because Bacchus is an irresponsible asshole. He's gotta deal with what his little peons did to you. They weren't supposed to do anything without his permission, and they did."

"So, I'm an accident."

"Pretty much," he chuckled. That didn't really make her feel better. She was just a burden, then. "But I agreed to take care of you. This shit isn't your fault, so you shouldn't be punished for it. That's why you're with me."

She supposed that made sense, but that didn't explain why she'd woken up all alone. What if she hadn't been able to read the note that was left with her? What if she'd ignored it and went home? Would someone have come looking for her? Would it have been Erik or one of the other three men in this house? "Then who wrote the note?"

"Bacchus," he said. "They told him where you were at, and when he found you, he realized what happened. And instead of calling me while he was there, he figured it was a better idea to have your confused ass wandering all over the city trying to find me."

"That's… kinda stupid."

Erik shrugged. "He's a fucking drunk. I've learned to not question his logic most times." Her cheeks warmed just a little when his thumb drew slow circles down her forearm and on the inside of her wrist. "Two more things, then we'll go."

Lucy nodded.

"You'll find that those of us who have been around for a while aren't exactly the most uptight when it comes to… relationships."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," he sighed, "We're really not concerned with keeping things strictly between men and women."

Oh. So vampires were just bisexual. She kind of wondered if it was all of them, maybe it was part of being a vampire. And why he was telling her this in the first place. Maybe it was because he lived with three men? It wasn't like he needed to explain himself to her. He didn't owe her any sort of explanation. Then again, he didn't know her at all. Maybe he thought she was uptight about things like that.

"After being alive long enough, you might end up finding certain things attractive about women that you didn't while you were a human. Or men, if you swung the other way as a human. As whole, as time goes on, we really don't care. Or it's more like we just stop caring."

That was actually very progressive of them. And it kind of made sense, she supposed. At this point, she was just going along with it.

"To go along with that, you can feed from any vampire. It doesn't have to be you and a man."

"Good to know," she said. She wasn't really worried about that just yet anyway. At least for the time being, she was going to be with Erik. She was his responsibility, after all, so it stood to reason that she'd just feed from him until he told her to move on to someone else. And hopefully he'd help her figure out where she could even find another vampire to feed from. Would he set her up on some sort of website to find other vampires. Like, _Plenty of Vamps_ for her to create a profile. Or _Fanger_ , where she could swipe right or left at her leisure.

"The other thing is…" He actually hesitated. He'd been blunt and straightforward this entire time, but that little pause held all of her focus. "When we're in my room, we'll be sharing my bed. For you to be comfortable, you'll need to be naked."

"Wait, what?"

"Silk sheets," he chuckled. "They'll feel better on your skin right now."

Well, she hadn't really forgotten about how uncomfortable this dress felt on her, but just by bringing it up, it brought that discomfort right to the forefront of her brain. And once again, she was itchy and uncomfortable.

"I have no issues with nudity," he continued. "And I'm more comfortable with nothing on while I'm in bed. For your sake, I'll wear some boxers."

"So kind of you," she muttered. Lucy shifted slightly to try and pull at her dress. Why did he have to bring this up?

"My only rule while you're in my bed for the next week is that I won't fuck you." He laughed when Lucy's jaw dropped and she gaped at him in horror. "After you feed enough, you might start feeling horny. No matter how bad that gets, I'm not touching you. You're a baby, and I'm just teaching you the ropes."

That made sense, she supposed. And, oddly enough, it was pretty thoughtful. She didn't exactly plan on trying to jump his bones or anything, but considering she'd been getting just a little excited by the taste of his blood earlier, Lucy could at least accept that it was a very real possibility that she just might want to as the days wore on. The only thing she needed to know was what the hell she was supposed to do with herself if she started getting horny enough to try and fuck him. Maybe she'd just have to go and take a bath and rub it out herself. It wasn't like she was incapable of masturbating - spending the past few years without a stable relationship and only the occasional fling to get her rocks off left her with few options in the orgasm department.

"Okay," Lucy said quickly, before he could keep talking. "I've read the terms and conditions, and I accept."

"I'm not done-"

"I'm _itchy_ ," she whined. "We'll both be naked, okay. Just take me to your room and let me get in those sheets. You can talk my ear off then."

His eye narrowed once more as he peered down at her. "You seem a little too accepting of this."

"Millennial, remember?" she laughed while they started walking again. "We're a weird generation. Plus, I've spent enough time in strange men's beds to not be all that shy about someone seeing my tits. I'm good." Which was a bit of a contradiction, considering how she hadn't wanted him to see too much of her in that towel earlier. And that she'd practically accused him of being a rapist and murderer. But at this point, if it would help to ease what felt like chicken pox breaking out all over her body... she was all for it.

Erik shook his head and led her down the hall.

* * *

"Okay," Lucy said, rolling onto her side with a content sigh as black silk shifted over her skin. God, it was so _soft_. Like bathing in creamy butter without the greasy after-effects. She made sure the top sheet was tucked around her breasts and propped her head on one hand. "I'll ask a question about vampires, and you tell me if it's right or wrong."

"This should be good," Erik chuckled. He tucked his hands behind his head, and she took a moment to just soak in the pulling muscles on his arms and chest that she hadn't seen before. But boy, could she see them now that he was down to a pair of red silk boxers, lying in the bed with her. The fact that even his boxers were silk was just hilarious. Then again, maybe vampires had insanely sensitive skin. Maybe she'd never be able to wear cotton or polyester again. Or spandex. Oh, god... her yoga pants collection!

"Can't have garlic?"

"It just smells gross," he said. "We've got a great sense of smell. Well, yours is still shit right now, but give it a year and you'll grow into it."

"You have to be invited into a person's house, or you can't cross the threshold?"

"That's called manners," he said, rolling his eye. "What the fuck is wrong with this generation?"

"Right, but is it a requirement?" She had a habit of just walking into her friends' houses. It was a horrible habit she'd picked up from Natsu years ago, and she'd never been able to break it. She did, at least, have the decency to phone ahead and let them know she was on her way. Unlike a certain pink-haired moron best friend of hers who crept in through people's windows at dawn just to see if they were home from their paper routes, to ask for breakfast. God, she loved that dork.

"No, it's not a requirement. You can break and enter to your heart's content."

"How about…" Lucy frowned and tried to think about the vampire lore she'd read over the years. There were so many variations to choose from. "Crossing running water?"

"Are we talking rapids or just a stream?"

"Either," she said with a shrug.

"Well, it doesn't matter," he said. "We can cross water. How do you think I got here from Europe? A fucking boat. As a vampire."

Lucy laughed at the deadpan expression he gave her. "Keeping familiars?"

"It's possible," he said. "I don't. It's a hassle having to deal with humans, so I avoid that shit like the plague…" He paused to chuckle to himself. "Ah, I'm so glad I was already a vampire when the plague was going around. The boils were hilarious."

"Wow…"

"Shut up," he laughed. She liked his laugh. It was a deep, throaty thing, but it suited him. Just like the dimples in his cheeks when he really smiled. But those seemed to be rare occurrences, from what she could tell. "But keeping humans is a personal choice. Some do it. Some keep them, then turn them later, like Bacchus does."

"So those three guys..." She hadn't a clue who they were. She was actually pretty curious about that.

"Vampires are broken up into families," he said. One hand moved from behind his head to toy with a lock of her hair that had spilled down onto the pillow. "When one breaks out on their own, they have to file with the Council when they decide to take on members for themselves. It's a lot of bureaucratic bullshit."

"That sounds complicated," she said.

"Yes, and no." They both watched the way her golden hair twisted around his fingers for a moment. "I'm the head of my family. As the head, I can turn someone and bring them into the family, or delegate that responsibility to others the way Bacchus does. But there's a limit on how many humans can be turned in each family in a decade."

That made sense, she supposed. They needed to control the vampire population; otherwise, their kind would end up obliterating the human population entirely. Though, considering there weren't that many differences between vampires and humans that she could see - aside from the blood thing, and a couple other small things - she didn't really see the big deal if they did wipe out humanity.

"In my family, I do the turning," he said softly, drawing her attention back to his face. "I don't do it often. I met Gajeel in Cyprus when it fell to the Ottomans in 1571. He was fighting like there was no tomorrow, and for him there really wasn't. But I stopped him from being killed and turned him. Gajeel found Bickslow in India in 1785, and brought him to me to turn."

"I'm guessing Bickslow is the one who just laughs?"

"Yeah," Erik chuckled. "He's a fucking weird one, and he'll laugh at pretty much anything. It's actually kind of annoying." He didn't sound like he found it annoying. "And he's a fucking pervert."

"And Midnight?"

"His name is Macbeth," he said. "Gajeel calls him that to piss him off, because of how he dresses." He smirked a moment later. "I do it for the same reason." Lucy couldn't stop herself from giggling a little over that. "We found him in New York in 1978. He was partying at Studio 54 at the Casablanca Records party, snorting coke off Donna Summer's ass."

Lucy blinked repeatedly. That... was not what she'd been expecting to hear.

He seemed to realize it, too, because he smiled at her again and tapped her nose. "I took a liking to him. And he was so stoned at the time that he jumped on the chance to come home with me and the others. That was... an interesting night."

Maybe that was why she felt like Midnight had been glaring at her. Maybe he didn't like the attention she was getting from Erik, when he'd been the baby in this family for the past forty years. Or maybe she was just reading too much into it. From what she could tell, though, Erik seemed to mostly swing toward men. He only turned men. And he'd only turned three - that he'd mentioned - in the past nearly 500 years. "Are they the only ones you've..."

Erik's brows pinched for a moment. "You've met everyone in my family," he said. "We had someone else but... they're gone now."

She wanted to ignore the tinge of anger in his voice that rippled through the air. He seemed a little more tense now. Maybe it was time to change the subject. "Vampire OCD and counting seeds on a grave?"

"That… is the dumbest shit ever." He smiled again, and she was sure that he was actually enjoying hearing what humans thought about his kind. Their kind now, she supposed. "I call bullshit. Unless there's a vampire with OCD, but it's not the standard."

This was good. She could keep this light mood going. "I won't even ask about... the glitter."

"A wise choice, because I'd have to cover you in it if you did," he said. "Fuck those books."

Lucy giggled and inched closer to him. Her teeth were starting to hurt again. Maybe it was part of being so new. Her fangs just hadn't grown in fully yet. "Just for the sake of making sure I've covered all my bases here… Pale skin, fangs, and the cheesy Transylvanian accent."

"She asks the tan guy with an obviously _not_ Transylvanian accent," he snorted. "I swear to fucking Osiris."

"Huh?"

"Yes, before you ask, Osiris is the god of vampires. It's a whole thing. I'll give you a book to read."

"Any wolf, bat, or misty transformations?" she asked. Now that he'd brought up his skin, he was starting to look a little more edible. Like a piece of caramel just waiting for her to devour it. Ooh, like a Milky Way. She loved those.

"No shapeshifting. And the only way you'll run up the side of a building is with a lot of momentum and some parkour skills." His nostrils flared slightly when she licked her lips. "And those are not standard vampire skills. You'll need to practice if you plan on doing that shit."

"And making new vampires by biting them?" she asked. Lucy leaned a little closer and eventually brushed her nose over his sternum. The throbbing in her mouth only worsened. Had it been long enough since she'd bitten him last? She didn't want to do it too often, but her mouth really hurt. As the seconds ticked onward, she was ready to rip her teeth out again. That had hurt less than the bullshit happening right then.

"The fact that you remember no part of being turned is a bit problematic," he sighed. Her eyes closed when his fingers brushed her hair back and he pulled her lips to his throat. "Go ahead, you look like you're ready to eat my fucking soul."

She didn't need more prompting to bite him, but it was even easier than before to get his skin to break.

Erik swallowed when her body was pressed flush against his side. "Remember to be gentle," he whispered.

Lucy hummed and forced herself not to suck as hard as she had been. It really was difficult to remember that when everything in her was screaming to drain him dry as quickly as possible. But she could have some self-control. She really could…

"Fuck," he groaned. He shifted on the bed, his back arching ever so slightly. "Not so hard, Lucy."

She pulled away just enough to speak. "My mouth hurts."

He groaned when she latched on again. "You need to do this when you feel it coming on. Shit, this isn't good…"

"Hm?"

Erik shook his head and reached for his nightstand. His hand swatted one way and another until he found his phone sitting right next to hers that was in the process of charging. Without hesitating, he dialed and put it on speaker.

" _Already?"_ Gajeel's gruff voice said in answer.

"Yeah, she's a hungry one," Erik said. "I don't know who's got first, but I need one of you in here. Soon." Lucy bit down again, pulling a sound that was very nearly an aroused moan from his lips. "Real soon... Fucking shit..."

" _I'm first,"_ Gajeel said. _"Lemme wash up and I'll be there."_

Erik hung up and tossed the phone to the bed. His hand rested on her golden hair. "Try to go slowly, okay?"

Lucy hummed in response.

"Turning a human is… there's a whole ritual," he said in answer to her question. "Picture a standard virgin sacrifice kind of thing, and you're about halfway there. I'll show you the books later on when you're not licking the inside of my fucking carotid."

Lucy laughed against his neck. Sadly, it was a weird angle for her to be in, and she just wanted to be comfortable. It was with that thought in mind that she slowly crawled on top of Erik and laid herself on him. She got ready to pull back to ask if it was alright to be in this position, but his hand held her in place.

"It's fine," he said softly. "As long as you don't start grinding on my dick, we're good."

She hadn't even considered that, to be honest. But since she was lying completely on top of him, she could feel his arousal pressing against her hip through his boxers. And she was sure that he could feel her pebbled nipples brushing against his chest when she shifted to kneel between his legs. At least, if she was like this, it would be a bit less sexual on her end. She didn't have a dick to fuck him with, after all. Oddly enough, his legs parted with no hesitation. She wondered if that meant he was a bottom. Maybe a power bottom. He seemed like the type.

"Eye hypnosis?" she asked, licking at the two small pinprick punctures in his neck and the indentations from her normal teeth.

He really laughed then, even when she moved lower and bit into him again. "Look into my eye," he said with an exaggerated slavic accent. "Bluh bluh bluh! Fucking stupid." Lucy laughed against his flesh while one of his hands rubbed slow circles on her lower back and the other started stroking her hair again. He was pretty touchy for someone who hadn't wanted to teach her only hours before. "You do it like this." His hand splayed across her lower back, then he started rubbing her skin again in random patterns. "Skin contact. Only with humans, and only when you really need to feed. If it's dire enough that you're willing to feed on their weak ass blood, then hypnotize them. They'll do whatever you want, and you can make them forget you were even there when you're done. You try this shit on me, and I'll fucking eat you."

Lucy drew back and licked at the punctures, then looked into his eye. "Does it work on other vampires?"

He smirked. "You'll have to figure that out on your own."

"Sleep in a coffin?" she asked with an answering grin. She bit his chest just before he could answer. She couldn't find a good spot to get a lot of blood out. His wrist had been alright, but she didn't want his wrist again. She wanted something else. Something she couldn't describe. Maybe it was feeling arms around her, caging her in. Hands freely touching her overly sensitive flesh. She pulled back just a little and scraped her fangs over his chest, hoping to get a few scratches in. Anything to make him bleed more, so she could quell the pain in her mouth.

"You're literally in my bed right now. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable a fucking coffin is?"

"Super seductive?"

His fingers trailed higher on her back to the space between her shoulder blades. "If you wanna slut it up, by all means," he said. "I don't fucking care. Does being a vampire make you more attractive? I'm biased."

"You really fuckin' are," Gajeel said from the doorway.

Lucy drew back in surprise, pulling a hiss from Erik when one of her fangs snagged on his skin. His hands wrapped around her waist and he held her in place while Gajeel came over to the bed. Was he telling her not to move? He'd called Gajeel to the room, but Lucy didn't want the others seeing her feeding. She still didn't know what she was doing, really. And now she knew that Gajeel was several centuries older than her. He probably thought she was a moron.

"No funny business," Erik said. He and Lucy watched as Gajeel removed his black tank top before taking Lucy's previous spot on the bed, leaving him in only a pair of black silk pajama pants.

Gajeel just smirked. "You got it. I'll deal with it myself later."

Erik nodded, then turned to Lucy. She hadn't a clue what was supposed to happen, but he seemed to realize it based on the confusion written all over her face. "You're draining me," he said. "Gajeel here's gonna let me feed on him, so I can keep feeding you on demand."

Lucy blinked and sat up, holding the sheet tightly to her chest. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I really am doing this too much, aren't I?"

"She's fuckin' adorable, Cobra," Gajeel said, drawing her attention. He looked so intimidating, she wasn't sure what to make of him. But then he smiled at her in a way that wasn't predatory or mocking in the slightest. "This is normal. He took you on, so he'll feed you until you don't need it all the time. Me and the others'll come in when he needs us to. Shouldn't be more than a week."

"Really?" she whispered, looking from one to the other. "I'm not doing it wrong?" She tried to suck the blood off her lower lip, and ended up scratching herself with her fangs. Lucy hissed and pressed her fingers to her mouth.

"You're fine," Erik said. He reached for her hand and pulled it away, closer to his lips. Lucy was mesmerized by the sight of her fingers, dotted with blood, drifting across his lips. How his tongue flicked out to taste them. His eye closed in euphoric bliss for the briefest of moments. "It'll get easier to figure out when you need to do it, and to hold off for a little while. Right now, you're waiting too long so you need more at a time."

"Sorry…"

"Fuckin' precious," Gajeel chuckled. "Do yer thing, little Bunny. We'll all help ya learn."

She smiled over at Gajeel, then licked her lips when she looked back down at Erik. She could see the bites she'd already left on him were healing, but she was still feeling the urge to bite him. The pain was gone in her mouth, so that was a plus. But if she still felt like this, then maybe she wasn't done yet. "Should I keep going if I want to bite you?"

"Yeah," Erik said. "Do it until you don't want to anymore. I'll be alright."

"Yer the oldest one in this house," Gajeel snorted. "You'd better be alright."

She watched as Erik rolled his eye and accepted Gajeel's wrist that was suddenly thrust in front of his face. She'd yet to see Erik's fangs, and it was actually something she was curious about. He noticed her watching him though, and Erik pulled Gajeel's arm away from his mouth just enough for her to get a good look at his fangs. Her eyes widened at the sight before her. They were longer than even Gajeel's, long enough that she wondered if they would pierce all the way through her wrist if he tried to feed from her.

But where Gajeel's and Midnight's fangs - and even hers, she was sure - were just elongated canines, Erik's teeth were different. The incisors just next to his fangs were also slightly longer, and definitely a whole lot sharper than normal teeth.

"Wow…"

"It's an age thing," he said. His voice was even a little different now. Well, it was probably hard to move his lips around teeth like that.

"I ain't staying here all day, man," Gajeel said. He picked up the remote for the television and turned it on, then started flipping through the channels. "So hurry up and-" Erik's jaws snapped down on his muscular forearm. "Fuckin' shit!"

Lucy laughed at the heated glare Gajeel sent to Erik. After a moment, his bite lessened, and she was able to actually watch his lips holding a perfect seal on Gajeel's flesh. How Erik carefully sucked just enough to get the blood flowing, then let Gajeel's body do the rest. How he waited, then swallowed without moving anything but his throat while Gajeel slowly clenched his hand into a fist, unclenched, clenched again.

"Be glad he's not feedin' on _you_ right now," Gajeel muttered, turning his attention back to the television. "He licks people way too fucking much. It's like getting a goddamn rimjob on my fuckin' arm. I can only imagine he'd be doing the same fuckin' thing to you."

Her cheeks flamed and she looked down into Erik's eye. And he winked at her. At least, she thought it was a wink. Maybe he'd just been blinking with the only eye he had. Except it had looked a bit saucy. If he didn't want her thinking he'd be banging her anytime this week, then he probably shouldn't be doing things like that. Then again, she was seeing the sort of relationship he had with Gajeel. They were comfortable with one another, and she was sure it had everything to do with how long they'd been a family.

Erik slowly sat up, keeping his lips on Gajeel's arm the whole while, then directed her to turn around and put her back against his chest. It took a good bit of maneuvering for her to get comfortable between his spread legs, all while keeping the sheet over her chest so Gajeel wouldn't see her tits.

"He's makin' sure you can watch while you feed," Gajeel said. When she looked up at him, he met her gaze squarely. He didn't seem to be fazed in the slightest by Erik feeding on him. "Do you need me to show ya?"

Lucy flushed and shook her head. She could do this, too. She could learn how to feed on her own. It was bad enough that Midnight and Gajeel knew just how clueless she was. She didn't need one of them actively walking her through it.

He finally stopped on a channel that was playing the opening credits for Blade. "God, this fuckin' movie…"

"I've never seen it," she said while getting more comfortable.

"It's so fuckin' bad," he laughed.

She looked up at Gajeel as Erik's arms wrapped around her with one offered up for her to bite. "Tell me everything that's wrong with it?" she asked.

Gajeel grinned down at her, then turned to Erik. "I like this one. You should keep her." His smile faded when Erik bit him again, probably unnecessarily based on his reaction. "Asshole."

Erik chuckled, and Lucy looked down at his tanned forearm. She was going to get it right this time. She wasn't going to bite too hard or suck too hard. She had to start learning how to do it right. Except she didn't really know where the best place was for her to bite him with her fangs. She knew that it was relatively easy to slit one's wrists and bleed to death, but that was only if they did it just right. And Lucy wasn't really all that sure about the logistics of suicide and self-harm anyway. "Um..."

Gajeel set down the remote and leaned forward slightly. His thumb pressed into Erik's wrist and drew slow circles. "Touch the veins here," he said softly. "You can feel 'em, which one are the best." Lucy nodded, touching Erik's wrist as well. "Get yer top lip lined up with the best vein, then bite down."

Slowly, she closed her mouth around his flesh and applied a little pressure at a time until she felt his skin pop against her barely-there fangs. She sucked just once to get the blood flowing then let it pool in her mouth. Erik hadn't swallowed right away from what she'd seen, so she was going to do the same. Based on the soft sigh he let out against her hair, and how she felt him relaxing the longer she gently suckled at his wrist, Lucy could only assume she was doing it right. And as the movie continued, with Gajeel explaining why one thing or another was complete and utter bullshit, she brought her hands up to hold Erik's arm in place. He was probably getting tired of holding it up. She would've been, if their roles were reversed.

By the time she finished feeding, Erik had long since finished with Gajeel. The three of them watched the remainder of the movie until Lucy felt herself drifting away from the room and into dreamland. She hadn't known whether vampires actually slept. She could only assume they did as her eyelids grew heavier.

"Rest," Erik said into her ear. "You'll need to feed again when you wake up in the morning, and then we'll eat something."

Her eyes snapped open after a moment, and she sat upright in the bed. She didn't realize that the sheet fell down to her hips in her sudden panic. "Fuck, my route!"

"Huh?" Gajeel asked, frowning as he paused the movie.

She shook her head and crawled over Erik to grab her phone on the nightstand. It took too long to turn on, but she was glad that the android icon finally disappeared and her background of little pink sugar skulls showed up. The time read 3:15 AM. She was fucked. If Gray didn't answer, she was more than fucked. Because she was supposed to be down at the newspaper plant by two in the morning, waiting in line to get the papers for her route. And with how large her route was, she needed to be one of the first in line at the conveyor belts. It wasn't a residential route, so she didn't have the luxury of just tossing papers out the window. No, Lucy's route was full of stores and those large boxes on the street.

"What are you doing?" Erik asked. He and Gajeel watched as she sat on her heels and her thumbs tapped the screen rapidfire, faster than they'd ever seen someone typing on a phone before. Finally, she put the phone up to her ear, completely ignoring them both.

 _"Lucy?"_

She sighed in relief. "Gray, you sweet, wonderful angel of a man. Tell me you're not busy."

 _"Uh... no, I guess not."_ She could hear him shuffling through papers on the other line. _"Did your truck take a shit on you?"_

"No," she laughed. "But I do need you to cover my route tonight." Her gaze slid over to Erik, and she was taken aback by the suddenly deadly gleam in his eye. Her heart thudded in her chest and her muscles tensed, ready to run. It was a natural instinct, she knew. Because he looked for all the world as though he was about to kill something, and she sure as shit wasn't strong enough to take someone like him on.

 _"This is kinda short notice, Lucy,"_ Gray said. _"Is everything alright?"_

"Yeah, I've just..." She paused when Erik sat up a little straighter. She could only assume that she couldn't tell anyone about the existence of vampires. Or that she was one of them now.

"You had too much to drink tonight," Erik hissed, low enough not to be heard by Gray.

She shook her head. That wouldn't work. Gray knew that she wasn't much for drinking out of the blue. She was responsible about her alcohol. Saying that would only raise more questions, and he'd end up getting Natsu involved. The last thing she needed was her best (and most overprotective) friend banging on her door in the middle of the night, only to find her missing with her truck still there. "I've um... W-Well, you see, I..."

 _"Lucy, are you okay?"_ Gray asked. He sounded much more focused on the call now. _"Are you alone?"_

"No," she said.

 _"Are you safe?"_

"Yeah," she sighed. She really did love that her friends cared. "Look, this is kind of embarrassing, but..." She looked at Erik, then over to Gajeel. And then she smirked. "Promise you won't tell Natsu?"

 _"Promise."_

"Well, I met these two guys earlier," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "And I'm kind of tied up right now."

 _"Wait... you're what?!"_

Lucy laughed and pulled the phone from her ear when he started squawking. "I can't find my clothes," she snickered. "And I kinda don't want to."

 _"Where did you meet them? Did Cana introduce you or something? Lucy, are you sure-"_

"Gray, I'm fine," she giggled. "I'm just very naked, with two _very_ attractive men who are currently staring at me like a piece of meat... And I'm about to be a yummy sandwich."

 _"Why are you only just calling me, if you were planning on doing this?"_ he asked.

Shit. That was a good question. "Well, it wasn't exactly _planned_ ," she said, wincing. It wasn't a lie. And luckily, it wasn't entirely out of character for her. Gray had been one of her flings years ago just after they all graduated high school. But that was before he met Juvia in college, and those two had started dating. Levy was the one who didn't think too highly of Lucy's insistence that she not be tied down to a guy. Luckily, she didn't try to make her feel bad about her decisions. But she could still tell that Levy didn't like it. And then there was Natsu. He just wasn't interested in relationships in general, and he completely understood the one night stand thing. He was just constantly worrying about Lucy doing the same thing and getting herself hurt because of some random guy being a psycho. "We met at Burger King."

Erik looked positively disgusted. Gajeel was trying his damnedest not to laugh.

Lucy rolled her eyes at them. "You know how I feel about my king-sized Triple Whoppers," she said. "Apparently, it was sexy."

Gray laughed. _"You're disgusting."_

"Either way, we hit it off, and I came back to their place. There's been a lot of rolling around on the finest silk sheets ever created, and even more biting. Gray, you don't even know... The biting..." Her eyes closed and she sighed in bliss, thinking about the relief she'd had from feeding on Erik. "And I didn't realize the time until just now, so I kinda put our sex-capades on hold to call you and beg for your divine mercy."

 _"Send me a picture of these guys. I wanna make sure you're not in trouble."_

"Hold on..." With a heavy sigh, she pulled her phone from her ear and switched to her camera app. They were both staring at her, but the looks on their faces wouldn't sell the story she was telling Gray. Gajeel and Erik needed to seem as though they were ready to devour her. Quietly, she whispered, "Play along."

Erik glared at her, and Gajeel gave her an unimpressed eyebrow raise. They were going to make her work for this, weren't they... Well, if she was going to get out of working that night, then this needed to happen. When Erik brought up his rule about them not fucking, he hadn't mentioned anything else, so she rose up onto her knees and let the sheet fall away from her completely, then crawled into Erik's lap. She shamelessly ground herself against his hips and brought her lips to his in a searing kiss that she was sure would leave him lightheaded. He didn't hesitate to kiss her back, which was surprising, considering his adamant stance on not doing anything with a _baby vampire_. But damn, could he kiss! And the way his hands curved around her hips to pull her flush against his chest was just heavenly. She could feel the raw power in each of his fingers. When Lucy pulled away, she snapped a quick picture of the desire clearly etched onto his face.

She turned toward Gajeel, and found him smirking at her. His hand quickly shot up and wrapped around the back of her neck, dragging her sideways to crash her lips against his. Where kissing Erik for a short time had been an intense, heady experience, kissing Gajeel was all harsh movements and playful nips at her lips with the tips of his fangs. He finally let her go, and she took a moment to breathe before getting a picture of him as well. The fire burning in his crimson eyes when she looked at her phone had her insides tightening with longing. Fuck, he looked sexy like that. She swiped over to Erik's picture, and had to hold back a whimper. These two looked like they were seconds away from breaking her phone so they could have her undivided attention. Instead, she attached both pictures to a text message, and sent them to Gray.

She put the phone back to her ear.

 _"Lucy, those two will eat your ass alive. Jesus..."_

She couldn't help but laugh at that, completely forgetting that she was still, in fact, sitting on Erik's lap. "Well, as you can see, I'm a little preoccupied tonight. So, can you cover my route?"

 _"I guess I can,"_ he said. She could still hear the shock in his voice. It seemed a little more distant, like she was on speaker. Was he still staring at the pictures she'd sent? _"How the hell do you even find guys like this?"_

"Burger King," she laughed. "Never underestimate the sexiness of me stuffing my face with artery-clogging goodness."

"Wrap this shit up," Erik murmured.

She laughed again and leaned closer, brushing her nose against his. Maybe she'd gotten a little too into this pretend sexual rendezvous. "Gray, I've gotta go. Borrow my truck, okay? The route sheets and numbers for this week are on the passenger seat. And you can skip that little bodega on 15th street. They're not paying me for shit, so they're not getting shit until I deal with the owner."

 _"I'll fill up the tank when I'm done,"_ he chuckled. _"Use protection."_

"I always use protection," she snickered. "You're a lifesaver." She hung up the phone and dropped it to the bed, then let out a quiet sigh. Crisis averted. Her paper route was covered, at least for the night. She'd have to figure something out for tomorrow, but that could come later. Slowly, she tried to shift away from Erik, her eyes widening when he held her in place.

"Gajeel, give me your fucking arm again," Erik said. She couldn't help but notice the tension in his jaw.

"Hell no," Gajeel huffed. "You'll rip it off. Yer a fuckin' beast when yer horny."

Erik turned to glare at him. "Arm, now." Gajeel refused again, and Lucy squeaked when Erik held her tightly to his chest and pounced, pinning Gajeel down on the bed with her body sandwiched between them. "You'll really tell me no?"

Lucy turned her head as best as she could to look up at Gajeel's face, only to find his eyes wide and a little horrified. Then his pierced brows drew together and he snarled up at Erik. "Fuck off, man!" he shouted. Faster than she could follow, Erik shot forward and latched onto Gajeel's throat, pulling a sharp cry of pain from the hulking man lying beneath her. "Damnit, Cobra, stop!"

She tried and failed to shimmy out from between them. Erik used one hand to grab her head and press it to his chest, urging her to sink her fangs into him again. She didn't really feel like feeding right then, though. Her mouth wasn't hurting, and that had been the only indication beforehand that she needed to feed. What caught her off guard, however, was the unfamiliar pair of calloused hands suddenly massaging her hips and the outsides of her thighs.

"Fuck," Gajeel groaned. "Cobra, c-come on... Not like that!"

When Erik growled, Lucy closed her eyes and forced herself to bite his chest as hard as she could. It sounded like Gajeel wanted Erik to stop, and if she could maybe hurt him just enough to distract him, then Gajeel could... He could... He could keep groping her, smoothing his hands over her thighs and massaging her as Erik groaned above her. Two pairs of hips bucked against her, Gajeel's silk pajama pants beneath and Erik's boxers on top. In a matter of moments, Gajeel was left a panting mess who desperately grasped at any flesh he could reach. Hers, Erik's, it didn't seem to matter to him in the slightest.

"I know yer horny, but.. _ngh_... This is why you need to get laid more, you ravenous fuck!"

Slowly, Lucy's arms wrapped around Erik's back. Her fingers dug into the contracting muscles as he ground against her again. She could hear the way he growled, how it stopped long enough for him to swallow. She tried everything in her power to time her own with his. He drank deeply, as though he'd been starved. But he'd just fed from Gajeel. Was this really okay? That sharp, spicy tang to his blood had returned, and her eyes slid closed as she basked in the way it burned in her throat.

"Shit," Gajeel panted. "Erik, you've gotta stop or... Fuck, I'm gonna... Fuck!" Lucy's eyes widened when Gajeel's hand slipped between her legs and his fingers teased her entrance. She whimpered against Erik's chest, sucking with a little more force before the shallow punctures could close over again. "Fuck, she's wet... Oh, god... Erik, stop biting m-" He groaned and slowly pushed two fingers into her sex, then withdrew them quickly and pushed her and Erik off of him.

She let go of Erik's chest and looked up as they rolled to the side. Gajeel was still pressed tightly against her back. He held Erik's snarling mouth away with one hand, then shoved his moistened fingers between Erik's lips. And suddenly, everything went still. Erik, especially, went eerily still. He stopped moving, except for his eye sliding closed and his tongue slithering around Gajeel's fingers, tasting everything. When Erik's eye opened again, he met her worried gaze with his eye half-lidded. Gajeel's fingers slid from between his lips, down to his chin. She couldn't help but stare at the blood smeared across his lips, staining his dangerously long fangs that wouldn't let his mouth close all the way.

She didn't look away as her hand slid down the length of his chest, his stomach. Her fingers teased the band of his boxers, then eased inside, inching downward with all the care and caution she could manage. At the first sign of him wanting her to stop, she'd do just that. But it seemed as though that wasn't what he wanted at all. She shivered when Gajeel leaned down, and his deep voice rumbled just next to her ear.

"Y'see, Erik here hasn't been with a woman in centuries," he said. "And I'm pretty sure he needs a woman's touch. Me jerking him off won't be the same as you doin' it. Yer hands are softer."

She had to fight not to bite her lip at the way Gajeel's breath warmed her throat. She kept looking into Erik's eye, memorizing the intensity of his gaze, the way his breathing had changed to something harsher, filled with anticipation as her fingers brushed across the coarse hairs above his cock. He'd said he wouldn't fuck her, because she was just a baby vampire. Maybe it had something to do with her being so young, compared to him. But for her, he didn't look that much older. No, Erik looked as though he was barely thirty. Or maybe he didn't want to have sex with her as a new vampire because it was all so new to her. She didn't know her own strength. She also didn't know what kind of strength _he_ possessed _._ And Erik looked like he was on the verge of losing control entirely.

"I could do that," Lucy whispered. Her hand still didn't move, but she shifted higher on the bed and brought her lips closer to his. Her tongue slithered out and she licked Gajeel's blood from his fangs. "It's not sex, so we're not breaking your rule."

"Fuck," Erik rasped. "Fine... Just..." As soon as her fingers wrapped around his hardened cock, he lunged forward and captured her lips in a kiss like no other she'd experienced. With Gajeel's body acting as a wall of hard muscle behind her, Lucy was trapped. She couldn't pull away from Erik's harsh, needy kisses. As she stroked along his length and he growled against her lips, Lucy found that she didn't want to pull away. Gajeel's hand trailed along her side, from her hip up to her breast, and she gasped at the feel of his thick fingers carefully teasing her nipple into a hardened peak. Erik groaned and curled his hips into her tightened fist, thrusting slowly at first and gaining speed the longer his lips were pressed to hers.

At the first nick of his fangs on her lips, Lucy's world spun. The heady feeling of something so deadly brushing against her threw her headlong into a spiraling vortex of desire. She wanted more of it. She craved it. And without realizing it, she threw her leg over Erik's hip and ground herself against him through his silk boxers. She couldn't be sure if the moisture staining the front was from him or from her.

Erik pulled away from her lips on a long moan when her thumb circled the tip. His eye honed in on the little scratches he'd left on her already. "I'll break you," he growled. "That's why I can't..." His eye rolled back when she started stroking him faster, and he gulped once. Twice. "G-Gajeel, make her stop..."

"Hell no," Gajeel chuckled. "Our little Bunny's gonna get you off, Cobra."

She turned her head to look at Gajeel, only to find his crimson eyes burning bright as he grinned at the tormented expression on Erik's face. Her hand slowed when she looked back at Erik. If he didn't want her doing this, then she wouldn't. It would kill her inside, because she was starting to get really turned on. She wanted to see Erik fall apart. But if he said to stop, then she would. "Do you want me to-"

"Don't stop," Erik growled. His hand shot down and wrapped around her wrist, forcing her to stroke him faster. Harder. To squeeze his cock and pump him with everything she had.

"He's a greedy fuck when he gets goin'," Gajeel chuckled in her ear. "Poor guy denies himself too fuckin' much. Even though we're all right here, and he knows we're willin' to let him have us."

"All of you?" Lucy asked. She looked at Gajeel again, and he nodded. So what Erik had said earlier was true. Vampires really weren't all that concerned with conventional relationships. He and three other men had been hooking up for years already, probably in all sorts of different combinations.

Gajeel smirked and let his hand dip between her legs again. She didn't stop his fingers from flitting across her sex. Her back arched as two fingers slid inside her again. "Part of bein' a family," he rasped. "We do it for convenience. You don't gotta look too far to feed when yer with a family. And you've got others to watch out for ya."

Lucy whimpered when his fingers withdrew and slowly pushed back in. He was teasing her with tantalizing touches, with promises of more pleasure. She'd never been this aroused just from a little foreplay. But her skin was still overly sensitive from being turned. Every touch to her flesh had her nerves lighting up, sending whole lightning storms of sensation crackling over her body. And fuck, she wanted more!

"And with feeding, usually comes fucking," Gajeel said. "You get horny, and there's someone right there..." Lucy moaned when his fingers buried themselves deep within her and he scissored them gently, just enough for her to feel what was to come. He started moving a little faster, with a little more power into each thrust of his fingers, pulling several breathy moans from her. "Pretty simple math, really."

She nodded, looking up into Erik's hazy indigo eye. His grip on her wrist lessened, and finally... finally, he touched her. First it was just her arm, then her shoulder. And then his hand was cupping her breast, pinching and pulling at her nipple. Gajeel slid out from behind her and Lucy found herself laid flat on her back with Erik kneeling between her legs. She wasn't sure when she'd pushed his boxers down, when she leaned up to kiss him. Or maybe he'd been the one to kiss her. What she did know was that one moment she was kissing him - still stroking his thick member and basking in the feeling of his hands all over her - and the next his body was bearing down on her and she was screaming into his harsh kiss as he buried himself inside her. His hips snapped at a relentless pace, but she stopped caring about just how quickly he moved within her, how powerful each thrust was as it pushed her higher on the bed. Because this was something wholly different from any sexual experience she'd had before. She could feel every inch of him stretching her, sliding out, how her body gripped him so tightly.

The scent of blood filled the air, mixing with his Old Spice shampoo that she'd smelled earlier as her fingers carded through his hair, the soap still clinging to her own skin from her shower.

She cried out as Erik lifted her easily from the bed and into his lap. Gajeel moved in behind her, hooking his arms beneath her legs and spreading her open for Erik. She wrapped an arm around Erik's shoulders, the other moving back to tightly grip Gajeel's hair. "Fuck," she moaned as Erik's hips slammed into her hard enough to crush her against Gajeel's chest. A delirious smile pulled at her lips when she heard them both growl, the sound zipping down the length of her spine. "Mm, Cobra!"

He didn't speak anymore. All she could hear from him were guttural sounds of pleasure as he pounded into her weeping sex.

"Welcome to the family, Bunny," Gajeel rasped. He harshly nipped at her ear. "He might say he won't fuck a baby, but he's fucked all of us after turning us."

Her head turned and she found her lips captured, her tongue being teased by sharp fangs and the metal bar that speared through Gajeel's tongue. Pure ecstasy danced just on the edges of her consciousness as Erik's lips pressed hot, wanting kisses along her jaw while he ground her against his hips, pushing deeper than before.

"So _mojado_ for me..." Erik groaned.

"Oh shit," Gajeel chuckled. His eyes flashed with excitement as Lucy moaned long and low in her throat. "He pulled out the Spanish. Yer a goner, Bunny."

" _Mierda_..." Lucy turned to find Erik's bright indigo eye gazing at her as though she was nothing more than prey. His lips pulled back into a vicious snarl, baring all of his pointed fangs. Her breath quickened at the sight. She _was_ his prey, she could feel it deep in her bones. This vampire who was centuries older than her, could kill her in a second if he wanted to. Maybe he planned on killing her with pleasure alone. Overloading her senses, sending her spiralling into insanity. " _Te romperé_."

"He says he's gonna break you," Gajeel rasped in her ear. Gajeel's grip on her legs tightened, pulling them open wider just to the point of pain. Lucy wasn't sure if she was screaming from the magic Erik worked between her legs anymore. All she knew was that she didn't want it to stop. She didn't want him to slow down, to give her a moment to adjust. She didn't need it. "I think I wanna see this."

She finally catapulted into the stars with a crackling scream just as his fangs struck her throat. Lucy knew, even as she ascended higher than ever before and tears dotted her lashes, Erik wasn't even close to being done with her. She clutched tightly to him and rode out her climax, held his lips tightly against her throat on instinct alone. Still, he didn't slow down. His hands were desperate as they kneaded her widely spread thighs, her hips, everything. When she finally felt his fangs pulling out, his tongue replaced them, laving over her flesh. Teasing her veins to give him more of what he sought. Gajeel was right, Erik's tongue was wicked when he used it like this.

Lucy wasn't sure how she managed it, or maybe they just let her do it, but her eyes flashed with victory when she managed to get Erik down on his back. She planted her hands on his chest and swirled her hips while her gaze honed in on her blood on his fangs. Fuck, why was that turning her on more?

"She's a feisty one, Cobra," Gajeel laughed. Erik bared his fangs in a vicious snarl, but it only lasted a moment before his eye was rolling back and he was moaning loudly at the way Lucy's hips rolled.

"I'm gonna break _you_ ," Lucy laughed. "Just you wait."

* * *

Erik laid on his side and slowly adjusted his hold on Lucy's limp, trembling body. His fingers brushed through her hair, pushing it away from her tired eyes. He shouldn't have fed on her. Luckily, it hadn't been much. His hunger had been sated by Gajeel already by the time he'd bitten Lucy, so it had really only been a habit. An aphrodisiac. Feeling his fangs sinking into her slender throat to push her over the edge into bliss was nearly orgasmic for him. It was the reason he bit the others when he was feeling frisky. He loved how it felt to have them tightening around his cock, screaming in ecstasy as his fangs that were longer than most others' sunk deeper and deeper into them.

He shouldn't have _fucked_ her. But he hadn't been able to help himself, and that just wasn't like him. She was too young. Her body was still going through all the changes it needed to, so she could be a healthy vampire. There was still a bit of humanity in her. He'd sped the process along by ripping out her canines and letting her feed on his older, stronger blood. Still, what was he supposed to do? After she'd teased him, given him just the smallest taste of her sweet lips and lithe tongue... after he'd felt the way her hips circled on his while she ground against him... Watching the way she'd kissed Gajeel right afterward without a care... He'd lost control.

Well, he'd held onto it just long enough for her to get off the phone. Things were a bit hazy after that until he was buried between her legs and kissing her, and feeling the way her legs locked on his hips and pulled him closer. He didn't think he'd ever forget how her body molded with his, moved so easily with every rough jolt to her core. How her eyes had silently begged him to become an animal. How she'd unconsciously tapped into her new strength and overpowered him to push him down onto the bed. The way she'd moved while she was on top. It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen in his long life, watching her whole body flow with the motion of her hips.

But he shouldn't have given in to his desire. He shouldn't have let himself go with her the way he had. He shouldn't have tossed her to the edge of the bed and pulled her ass up into the air, just to keep fucking her. He shouldn't have let Gajeel help move her one way and another while he took her over and over again. She should have stopped him, but she didn't. Eventually, Lucy had begged him for more. To bite her again. And fuck, he'd loved how it felt to wrap his lips around her nipple and bite her, sinking his fangs into her supple flesh.

"If you need to feed," he whispered, "Go right ahead, okay?"

She nodded, but it was slow. She looked so tired right then. More than satisfied, but no less tired. It was a small blessing for her that Gajeel had more fucking self control. He hadn't tried to have sex with her, even though Erik knew for a fact that he wanted to. Gajeel had a thing for short women. He'd always been insatiable when it came to that, and Erik knew it was because he liked the way his hands dwarfed their bodies when he pawed at them.

"You should get some rest, Bunny," Gajeel said gently. Erik's gaze shifted away from her to find the first man he'd ever turned crawling up the length of her body. He'd been adamant about cleaning her up when Erik was done. He'd forgotten how much Gajeel loved using his tongue to do that for the others. Gajeel laid himself down behind her, stretching out flush against her back and letting her feel the silk of his pajama pants against her overheated flesh.

Lucy hummed, and her fingers danced along the line of maroon hairs leading down Erik's stomach. He knew her throat was probably sore. She'd been screaming quite a bit. More than likely, Macbeth and Bickslow both knew exactly what had happened. Whether they knew that Erik had been the one to lose his cool, he couldn't be sure. What he did know was that they'd know the truth soon enough. Gajeel was such a fucking gossip.

Erik pulled the sheet higher, letting her feel the soft brush of silk and watching as she smiled and sighed in contentment. He knew how uncomfortable she'd been earlier. He still remembered very vividly how he'd foregone clothing altogether because he hadn't had the money to wear clothing made for royalty. It was the reason he preferred being naked even then, more than 700 years later. "You tell me if you need anything," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Anything at all."

"And no more fucking," Gajeel chuckled, sending Erik a teasing glare. "You need to get off, call one of us. Let her fuckin' relax."

"Fuck you, Gajeel," he huffed, burying his nose in her hair. He wasn't planning on having sex with her again. Not for a long time. Regardless of whether she was part of the family, it was her choice entirely. And he hadn't turned her, so there was nothing that bound her to them in any way. Nothing but the blood she took from him. And even that was just out of necessity. Besides, she'd have enough on her plate dealing with Bickslow and Gajeel chasing her ass. Midnight most likely wouldn't be interested in anything that dealt with Lucy. Erik hadn't missed the jealousy that tightened his smiles earlier that night.

But maybe Gajeel had a point. All three of his family members had been telling him that he was working too hard. He was denying himself one thing after another. He waited too long to feed, and ended up needing all three of them just to stop the hunger pains from doubling him over. He waited until they found him curled up in his bed, forcing himself to endure the pain until he was too dizzy to even find his phone and call for help. He didn't have sex with them most times. Erik loved the way it felt to be inside them. He loved how Gajeel's back arched and the piercings in his forearms glistened in the light. He loved the way Bickslow always tackled him to the bed and licked him from head to toe. He loved the way Macbeth's hair swayed when his body was being rocked from beneath, and seeing his black-painted nails gripping the sheets. Erik especially loved the time after they were finished feeding and fucking. A time just like this with Lucy.

What he loved most about having a family was being able to hold them in his arms, to know that the ones he'd turned and taken into his home were safe.

And now, he had one more member of his family to care for. Erik had no illusions about what would happen with Lucy. He knew that she'd remain a part of his family, even after she got used to her new life as a vampire. It would take time for all of them to adjust, but they'd make it work.

His hand rested over hers, pulling it higher to rest on his bare chest that she'd marked up with her small fangs. They were still growing in, and he knew it would take a few days even with his blood feeding her. She still couldn't control the contractions of her fangs. Half the time, her bites were mostly blunt teeth with only little pinpricks from her fangs. Soon, she'd be able to really puncture him, to open his veins more easily. And she'd be able to retract her fangs to a normal length, so no humans would be any the wiser of her true nature.

She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. "Kiss me," she breathed. He gave in easily enough - and he hated himself for it just a little bit, because he was supposed to be keeping his distance from her until she was stronger - and pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. It was much easier to do it without his fangs extended and his blood boiling with the need to sate his hunger. And he was able to appreciate the softness of her lips right then as they slowly puckered against his own.

It was too soon for this. He knew it was too soon, but he couldn't stop himself. Something about her kept calling to him, begging him to draw her closer. To hold her, never let her go.

Deep down, he knew the reason. She'd come to him covered in blood, lost and scared and confused. The last time this had happened, the woman hadn't been turned already. He'd been the one to do the turning that time. But seeing Lucy on his doorstep, looking the way she had, had called to that distant, painful memory. He'd known the moment he saw Lucy that he wouldn't turn her away.

Erik drew back and saw her smile again while she turned to look at Gajeel over her shoulder. Gajeel simply chuckled and leaned down to give her a short, sweet kiss. "Sweet dreams, Bunny," he said, brushing his nose along her cheek. She hummed and smiled again, then curled into Erik's embrace.

And that was something he hadn't expected. Just like he didn't expect his chest to fill with emotion so powerful that it nearly knocked the wind out of him. God, he was such a sap. He'd always been this way though, no matter how many times he'd tried to make it otherwise. Lucy's lips puckered on his sternum, and he looked down at her in question. Was she hungry again? He could feed her if she needed it. And he was positive that he wouldn't be tempted to fuck her again. He'd have more self-control the next time.

Why hadn't he thought to just fuck Gajeel, to spare Lucy from being thrown around like a ragdoll while he fucked her senseless? Damnit.

"Thank you," Lucy whispered. Her voice was definitely hoarse. She reached back and grabbed Gajeel's hand, draping it over her waist. "Both of you... for taking care of me."

Erik chuckled quietly. That was the first time he'd gotten a thank you after having sex with someone. But he knew, just as Gajeel did, that she wasn't thanking them for that. "You're part of the family now," he whispered back. "We'll always take care of you, Lucy. Now sleep."

They spent several minutes in silence, with both Gajeel and Erik watching over Lucy as her eyes slid closed and her breathing evened out. Neither spoke until they were sure she was completely unconscious. Only then did their eyes lock from either side of her.

"Bacchus really didn't know?" Gajeel asked.

"He found out after the fact," Erik said. "I told him I won't report it to the Council, but this is the last favor I'm doing for him."

"Pretty sure he owes you a hundred by now."

"Sentimentality from our childhood," Erik chuckled, shaking his head. His fingers brushed across the slowly healing bite he'd left on her throat. "He said he'll handle the ones who did this. His family hit their limit for this decade three years ago. If the Council found out she was turned under his name…"

"They would've killed her without question," Gajeel said. "I get it."

"And you understand why I took her in…" It was something that he would have to remind the others of as well. A story he'd told each of them when they'd been turned by him. Everyone in the vampire community who knew Erik - which was a good number of them, much to his great displeasure - knew two things about him. He didn't take vampires in from other families, or those looking for asylum - he only allowed the ones he'd chosen to be part of his family. And he didn't turn women. Ever.

It was going to take some serious thinking on his part to figure out how he could explain his choice to turn a woman. He wasn't going to throw Bacchus under the bus by saying that he'd taken her in from Bacchus because he wasn't supposed to turn anymore people for another two years. No, Erik was going to say he'd turned Lucy himself. And he needed to figure out why he would have done that. And it had to be believable.

Gajeel looked down at Lucy's sleeping face. He frowned slightly. "Not really. We never turn anyone, so we've got room for more. And she's pretty, but…" Then he realized it. Gajeel remembered Erik's story from the night he was turned in Greece. "She came to you, covered in blood, just like…"

"Just like Kinana did," Erik said. "I don't turn women for a reason, Gajeel. And it's the same reason that Bacchus passed her off to me so quickly."

"That's not a load of horseshit then?" he asked. "About falling in love with the woman you turn?"

"Not for me," Erik said. There was no guarantee that it was that way for everyone. Bacchus had turned a number of women in the past, and he'd never fallen in love with them. He'd been a little more forward with them, but that was it. But for Erik, he'd only had one experience with turning a woman, and it hadn't ended well. "I turned Kinana, and that was that. I loved her with everything I am. But now…"

"You know they apologized for what they did to her."

Erik knew the Council had apologized for killing Kinana. They'd put her on trial for some bullshit charges, and it was only discovered after she'd been torn to pieces by a pack of direwolves that everything had been orchestrated to get back at Erik. Brain's place on the Council was still vacant to that day. But the fact that they'd allowed him to kill Brain in front of three hundred other vampires didn't help. It didn't bring the love of his life back. She was gone, because Brain had convinced everyone that she was guilty of divulging their secrets and identities to the Pope. He'd been the real reason for the Spanish Inquisition.

"That doesn't make it hurt less, Gajeel."

What made it a little more bearable was knowing that Bacchus had been the only one who believed him when he'd said that Kinana was innocent. Bacchus had been the only one who helped Erik figure out what was going on. His best friend had stuck by his side, and if it hadn't been for Bacchus questioning who would want to hurt Erik - not Kinana - then they never would have come to the conclusion that Brain was the one behind this betrayal. Because Brain hadn't been happy that Erik had taken Bacchus out of his family to branch out on their own.

But no one really knew that, except the two of them. It was why he'd done so many favors for Bacchus over the centuries. He owed that asshole for being his rock back then. For holding him when he'd cried over her dead body. For spending ten years gathering evidence to prove Brain's guilt and deception had taken an innocent life. For never giving up on him after Brain was finally dead, and being the one to convince him to take a trip to Cyprus during the Ottoman invasion. It was because of Bacchus that he'd found Gajeel, and filled a small piece of the lonely chasm in his heart.

Gajeel shook his head, then leaned forward only slightly to get a better look at Lucy. "Well, you didn't turn this one. She should be fine staying with us, right?"

"I hope so," Erik said. She shifted in his arms and he waited until she was still once again before his hold on her tightened. "It'd do us some good, having a young one around." Macbeth had been the youngest for nearly fifty years already. They had a few businesses, but with how quickly the times changed - and with the way technology was speeding that up - it would be good to get some new blood in the family. He'd been hearing it from everyone lately that he needed to be less picky when it came to choosing a new member.

"And her being a woman?"

"Probably for the best," Erik chuckled. "There's too much fucking testosterone in this place. And Midnight can only make up for it so much."

He had no illusions about Lucy being some homely housewife for all of them. He didn't expect her to disappear from the world and become a slave that was only used for chores, sex, and blood. No, she could still have her own life. Erik just figured that having a woman around would be good for all of them. Just the breath of fresh air they all needed.

"Well, I'll leave you to it then. Bickslow's next for when you need it." Gajeel grabbed his shirt from the floor and left Erik's bedroom without another word. They both knew he was off to one of two rooms to work off the problem Erik's feeding had left him with. Well, more than just the feeding. Gajeel had denied himself any pleasure he could have had from Lucy, aside from kissing her. He'd left all of that to Erik. And Erik kind of pitied whoever Gajeel decided to visit that night, because he wasn't going to be gentle.

Erik made himself a little more comfortable and put on the cooking channel, his go-to when he wasn't in the mood for reading. There was a lot that Lucy still needed to learn, and she only had two weeks to do it before he had to report her existence to the Council and claim her under his family.

And they needed to sort out her normal life. She had to decide if she was going to keep the job she had and what would happen with her social life. Of course, there were vampires who chose to try and keep their lives as normal as possible until it was time to move on, but that was her decision. Considering she worked at night, it probably wouldn't change too much for her. He made a mental note to call Bacchus after getting some rest. He could cash in one of the many favors his childhood friend owed him, and have someone take over her newspaper route for the next week. She wouldn't be able to leave the house for, at the very least, one week. Which meant that it fell to him to make sure her life didn't fall apart. If people grew suspicious of her disappearance, it wouldn't bode well for any of them.

Thoughts of what was to come could wait though, because he was fucking exhausted. Dealing with this baby vampire's feeding habits was already cutting into his already erratic sleep schedule. In a few days, she would be able to feed on him without him being awake for it. But for now, he needed to guide her. Teach her.

Erik hissed when he felt her little fangs grazing his chest, just above his nipple. Apparently he needed to teach her not to eat in her sleep, too.

 _ **.The End…  
For now.**_

* * *

 **So, what I ended up adding (aside from a few paragraphs here and there) was the citrusy goodness. I'd originally planned on not having any of that, and then I realized that Lucy's paper route plot hole needed to be handled... Which devolved into what you see here. I'm hopeless.**


	5. Day 4: The Serpent and the Angel

**A/N: Can you believe we're already halfway through CoLu Week?! I can't. It's gone by so quickly, I don't know what to do with myself! But, today I'm bringing you another AU. That's been the theme for this year for me, so why not?**

 **This is one of the days that falls under the "Fantasy" sort of AU. And I'll tell you right now that it was inspired by two very different, but sort of similar, things. There's a note at the end concerning that though, so nothing gets spoiled.**

 **It's another long one this time around, but I had so much fun writing out the few scenes here. So, I hope you all enjoy a Tribal AU. (Please know, I'm not using any real tribes as a reference here, so it's all just fiction. And any similarities with foreign languages are mostly coincidental. I used a mish-mash of bullshit, Old English conjugation rules, and Latin pronunciations for things. Mostly bullshit. So, as far as I know, all the foreign language bits in here are entirely made up.)**

* * *

 **Day 4: Pyramid**

 _ **The Serpent and the Angel**_

 _Summary: Their marriage was one of necessity, to ally their clans for the war to come. The only problem was that Cobra and his people terrified her with their wild ways and brutal traditions. It didn't help that they didn't even speak the same language._

* * *

The bonfire burned bright against the night sky, and Lucy remained utterly still. Even through the deafening drums and ox horns being played, helping the two tribes find their rhythm to dance around, she could still hear her heart pounding. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. His narrowed indigo eyes, calculating and cold with everything they gazed upon, and his deeply tanned skin. His hair, the color of drying blood. The warrior's markings painted on his cheeks and bare chest in the same red. The way he sneered when he spoke that guttural, growling language of his people. He looked angry, no matter who he was talking to.

He terrified her.

Cobra was seven summers her senior. Even his name - loosely translated for her by his father in the common tongue to _vicious serpent_ \- made her uneasy.

And she was supposed to marry him.

She didn't know him, and she'd never interacted with his people before. But he was the same age as her eldest brother, Laxus. Cobra was the next in line to lead his father's tribe, and she could tell by the scars he had that he'd won the right to make his claim in the only way the Dragos recognized. In blood and in battle.

"You shouldn't stare so hard. I hear he can read minds."

Lucy jumped at the teasing tone of Sting's voice in her ear, and she turned toward him with a scowl. "Shut up, big brother," she muttered. "He scares me."

Sting, always the one with a quick joke to make her smile, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her into a half-hug. "There's nothing to be scared of," he chuckled. "Laxus set this up to benefit both our tribes."

She sighed and looked from his smiling face to the two tribes gathered around the bonfire. For the first time in nearly a century, they were coming together and forming an alliance. And it had everything to do with her father dying and Laxus taking over. Ivan had been a strong warrior, but he'd broken one too many oaths. And while her other three brothers were strong, no one could compare to Laxus. She found Freed and Rufus, her twin brothers who were only two summers older than her, flanking Laxus as they always did. With Freed's keen intellect and Rufus' ability to remember everything he came across, they were the best suited to advise their eldest brother as he led their tribe. And Sting… Well, he got to joke around as much as he wanted as the second-born son. Everyone knew he wouldn't lead the tribe unless Laxus was killed in battle.

And as long as this alliance with the Dragos went according to plan, that wouldn't happen for a long time.

As long as she married Cobra, left her tribe behind and gave him a son to carry on his family line, then the conflicts with the nomadic Sprigga tribe from the south would end in victory. Because what her people lacked in the number of able-bodied men who could fight, the Dragos had aplenty.

She was just glad that their grandfather, Makarov, was still alive to be an added voice of reason when she was gone.

Her eyes widened when she saw two Dragos men start fighting. It didn't seem like they were pulling any punches and joking around. One with pink hair and the other with long black hair, and both only wearing furs wrapped around their hips.

"That's Natsu and Gajeel," Sting said, reminding her of his presence beside her. "They're Cobra's younger brothers."

They were savages.

"I think Natsu's about your age, though," he said. Sting grinned when another man with white hair and the telltale dark skin of the Dragos jumped into the fray. He gave her a gentle squeeze. "If they're gonna be part of the family, maybe I should jump in on the action."

"You'll get hurt," she said softly, but he wasn't listening. All Lucy could do was watch as Sting rushed off and got right into the middle of the fight. She wondered if he'd be alright, if it would be seen as disrespectful for him to join them. It was made even worse when Gajeel's fist connected with the side of his head and sent him tumbling to the ground.

"Your brother tells me you speak the common tongue," came another voice from just behind her.

Lucy tore her gaze away from the brawl, and turned to find Cobra's father nearly glaring down at her with his aquamarine eyes framed by blue-painted markings. "Yes," she said. "Our grandfather made sure I learned it."

Acnologia nodded, directing his attention back toward the festive tribesmen. "My son does not," he said. "You will need to learn Draga to speak with him."

She had the errant thought that maybe Cobra should just learn the common tongue instead. But it would be for the best if she learned their language anyway. If she was to have children for their tribe, raise them in their tribe, then she couldn't live the rest of her life not knowing how to talk to her husband.

"I… know a little," she said. There were some similarities between her people's language and theirs, but not many.

"Laxus tells me you are stubborn as well," he said.

Lucy fought not to wince. That had gotten her into trouble more than she wanted to admit. It was only through the constant intervention of her brothers that she hadn't been punished more severely by their father when he'd been alive. "Only when it's important," she said carefully.

"Good." She blinked in surprise and looked up at him. He smiled down at her, but it wasn't a kind sort of smile. There was no tenderness in the way his lips pulled back to bare his sharpened teeth. Ah, she'd forgotten the stories she'd been told about the Dragon King Acnologia - how he'd sharpened his teeth to points to tear his enemies apart in battle. "My son is stubborn as well. He will never respect a woman who does not stand up for herself."

She nodded in silence while fear coiled around her heart. The longer she looked at his teeth, the more she was afraid of what he might do to her. Surely, Laxus wouldn't send her off to be killed. That was something their father would have done. But Acnologia's mere presence set her muscles in a tightening vice. Thankfully, he didn't touch her when he departed for the other side of the bonfire where Laxus and Cobra were standing. Her tribe was very affectionate, but for the first time, she didn't want a hand on her shoulder. She didn't want to leave with these monsters.

Part of her wondered if the stories were true about them having some sort of magical powers that allowed them to breathe fire. It was just a small part, though, and easily squashed when she took a steadying breath and forced her feet to move around the edge of the bonfire. Closer to Laxus and her twin brothers. But also closer to Cobra who, when she was halfway there, she found also had his teeth sharpened to points that could tear a person's flesh off with a single bite.

How could she be expected to lie with someone like him? She kissed her brothers on a daily basis, as was their tribe's customary greeting. But did that mean she was expected to put her mouth near Cobra's? To kiss _him_? Still, her feet moved. And she felt all eyes turn to her, scrutinizing the gently dyed purple cloth of her dress, her pale skin and sunlight-colored hair. Lucy was stubborn, as Acnologia had said, but she also knew that this alliance would keep her people alive.

"Ah, my dearest sister," Laxus said with a grin. He pulled her close and her eyes closed with the familiarity of his arms around her, his lips brushing the corner of hers. She turned when directed and faced Cobra.

He was so much taller up close. Still shorter than Laxus by at least a head and he had a more lithe frame, but taller than her. She hated the way he looked down his nose at her.

" _Foor'na gothem mihlara_ ," Cobra said.

She hadn't a clue what he was saying, but Acnologia stepped forward and stared down at her as well. And then he smirked. " _Draga'h. Hihlarun gebyrna thala, Cobra_."

It took everything in her to not flinch away from Acnologia's hand as it came up to cup her chin. He turned her head one way and another, but her eyes never left Cobra's face. And he stared right back at her.

"Is she not to his liking?" Laxus asked.

Acnologia chuckled and his touch drifted down to the shoulder strap of her dress. She didn't move to stop him, and controlled her breath so he wouldn't know how terrified - no, how disgusted she was by feeling the calluses on his fingers against her flesh. "He says she's too small. He may break her."

She wanted to vomit.

" _Gefreldah foor'nethga dolvar_ ," Cobra said. She couldn't stop herself from trembling when his lips lifted in a smirk that gave her a better view of his teeth. If those came anywhere near her, he'd rip her apart.

Acnologia turned his attention to Laxus. "There is something we must do," he said. "Though I am sure your sister would rather it not happen where others will see."

"What is it?" Lucy asked, cutting her brother off. She broke away from Cobra's intense stare to look at Acnologia. She could see the way he considered her for a moment. Maybe she wasn't supposed to get in the middle of this. Maybe it was supposed to be handled between the two leaders of their tribes. But Lucy was just as much a part of this, and she wanted to know what they were planning on doing with her. She deserved at least that much.

"In my tribe, the two to be wed will have seen each other before agreeing to the union," he said. "Our women do not cover themselves as you do."

What did that even mean? Oh sweet Gods above, he couldn't mean she would be getting naked in front of other people.

"And what's the purpose of this?" Laxus asked. He took Lucy's shaking hand and slowly pulled her back to his side, out of Acnologia's reach.

"To be sure they are a good match," Acnologia said. "She can bear no children if he finds her displeasing."

What a bunch of barbarians.

Acnologia met her steady gaze. "And I'm sure you'll be set at ease a little if you are able to find him pleasurable to look at." Her cheeks colored at the insinuation, causing Acnologia to laugh good-naturedly. "Laxus, if she was part of my tribe, this would not have to happen. They would have already seen one another like this. But you and I will be there to watch."

"So you're telling me that I have to watch my youngest sister…"

"They will not touch," Acnologia said. "They will only look, and then we will hear their decisions."

So she would at least get a say in whether this marriage happened. That was a plus. Except Lucy already knew that, no matter how she really felt about the way Cobra looked under his furs - which didn't leave much to the imagination as it was - she would have to agree to this. For her people. For this alliance that Laxus had so tirelessly forged to remain in place, she _had_ to marry Cobra.

"I don't think-" Laxus began, then paused when Lucy placed a staying hand on his chest. His brows furrowed as he looked at her.

It took all of the courage she possessed to speak. "If this is how it's done," she said in the common tongue for Acnologia to understand, "Then I should start learning the ways of my new tribe. Shouldn't I?"

"You'll always be one of us," Laxus said in their tribe's softer language. He gently cupped her cheek. "You don't have to do this."

Lucy's hand rested over his for a moment, then she kissed his palm and pulled away from his comforting embrace. He wouldn't always be around to protect her from the harsh realities of the world. Their tribe was lucky to live along the river, and to have had so many years of peace in their lands. But the fight would be coming to them in just a few cycles of the moon.

Finally, Lucy turned to Acnologia and forced herself not to show any fear while reaching for his hand. "This way," she said to him with a careful, tremulous smile. "Laxus would be at ease if we are in his home for this."

She glanced at Cobra to see him watching her. He was closed off, though. She couldn't tell what he was thinking at all. Still, Lucy held fast to Acnologia's hand and led him away from those gathered around the bonfire, with three of her brothers and her future husband following behind.

* * *

He could see the way she shook while slowly undoing the closures on her dress. The braziers in Laxus' spacious hut gave off a gentle, dancing light that made her pale skin glow. Still, Cobra waited. He'd wanted to see what he would be getting in return for agreeing to this marriage. Her face was nice enough, but she was so pale. So small. He couldn't see this girl being able to make it through the wedding, let alone bear him a child.

" _Bratta nallum_ ," Laxus said to her.

" _Moldeat varra, Laxus_ ," she laughed. Cobra did like the way her voice sounded though. He couldn't understand a word she said, but he found the way her lips formed every foreign word alluring. And how soft her voice was, almost felt like each word caressed his ears and settled deep in his soul.

She paused and took a deep breath, then her dress fell to the floor.

What lay beneath was not what he'd expected. Though Cobra showed no outward reaction as his gaze devoured every inch of her creamy flesh, it took a great deal of self-control to keep his feet rooted to the spot. Her breasts were much larger than the women in his tribe, her nipples such a gentle, foreign shade of pink. Her waist pinched into something exotically small. Gods, he wanted to wrap his hands around it just to see if his fingers would touch. But her hips. Such wide hips on a woman so tiny otherwise. Hips that were like his mother's, perfect for bearing sons with broad shoulders like those that ran in his family. Perfectly proportionate for her size. What he wouldn't give to mark her perfect, unmarred skin in barely-there scratches from his teeth.

He knew he'd be gentle with her. As gentle as a man could be, he supposed.

"Cobra," Acnologia said. That was all the warning he needed. It wouldn't be right to simply stare at her. He'd yet to see the rest of her, to see if there were any deformities in her spine that might be passed to their children.

Still, Cobra knew what he had to do. He unfastened the leather belt holding his furs in place, then let them fall. It took everything in him not to laugh when he saw her eyes round and the deep flush of pink spread across her cheeks. She didn't look anywhere but at his face. That is, until his father spoke to her, most likely telling her that she was required to look at all of her future husband. By the time her penetrating gaze drifted down to his stomach, her entire face was red. She blinked and stared down at Cobra's feet, then up his legs.

" _Feodah, Lucy_ ," Laxus said.

He watched her lips draw down into a pout as she turned toward her brother. She said something that Cobra was sure had to be an insult. Her voice was suddenly sharper than before, less docile and demure. And while she was distracted, Cobra walked closer to her so he could see her more clearly. From a short distance, she didn't seem to have any imperfections. Not one. Her breasts were even and full, her stance was strong. Her back was straight.

Cobra circled around her, mostly ignoring her since he couldn't understand what she was saying to her brother. It sounded an awful lot like the way his mother spoke to her children when they were being a bunch of fucking morons, though. Her golden hair reached down past her hips, obscuring his view of her back. With one finger, careful not to touch her skin, he pushed her hair to the side. How was her hair softer than a spider's silk? She stopped talking to her brother, and squeaked. The sound had Cobra chuckling. Such a small sound from such a small woman. It suited her.

"Cobra, what are you doing?" Acnologia growled.

"Checking her," he said. "I won't touch." He waited for his father to translate it for her, his head tilting with curiosity when she relaxed marginally. He frowned when he saw a blue spiralling mark at the base of her neck. "What is this mark?"

It took a moment for Acnologia to answer him, having to translate into the common tongue and back again. Finally, he said, "Laxus says it's a mark given to girls in their tenth summer that shows they're of age to marry."

"Tenth?" he spat, drawing back slightly. Who would marry a girl of only ten? He knew for a fact that most of them didn't bleed until they were at least fifteen. What was the point of marrying a girl who couldn't bear children yet? Why would they take away those years of her childhood that she would never get back? Why would they force a girl to marry when she wasn't even old enough to understand what love or sex really was?

"It's a mark that will only leave when she's no longer a virgin," Acnologia said as Laxus continued speaking. "They place a great deal of importance on a woman's purity, Cobra."

"What's the fucking point in that?"

"It's their way."

"It's fucking stupid, is what it is." He'd lost his virginity when he was sixteen to a girl in the tribe. No one cared about it. She hadn't given him a son, and they'd found out later that she couldn't have them at all. But no one had looked down on her or him for having laid together. It didn't matter all that much in the end.

"And it's not our place to question their customs," Acnologia growled, causing Lucy to tense once more. "She is accepting our ways. You should extend her the same courtesy."

"Fuck that." Cobra glared at his father. "If we marry, she'll be part of _our_ tribe. She should get used to shit like this."

"You'll need to ease her into this, son. And don't let your mother hear you talk like that, or she'll feed my balls to her snake."

"Kinana wouldn't want your fucking balls," he snorted. He looked back down at the spiral marking and tried to smear it with his thumb. It didn't come off. Lucy's head lowered slightly, and he tried again.

" _Vrothara nos il'men!_ " Laxus shouted at Acnologia.

"Stop touching her, Cobra," Acnologia snarled. "You're scaring her."

He lifted his hand and finally came to stand in front of her again. She didn't look at him though. It forced his hand. He grabbed her chin and made her look at him. And once she did, his eyes narrowed at the sight of how glassy her eyes had become. "Is she really going to cry?" he sneered.

"Considering you're doing the one thing I promised you wouldn't do, I don't blame her."

"Why wouldn't I touch her?" he asked. The few times this happened in the past with others, it was out in the open for all the tribe to see. Normally, the couple would find out if they were a good match by fucking in front of the tribe right there. And if they were, then they'd be married right after. But he wasn't supposed to touch her at all? Avoiding it at first was understandable. They were only just meeting for the first time, after all. How the hell was he supposed to find out if she was worthy of being his wife? It was bad enough that he'd been brought to the tribe leader's house to do this in secret. How much was his father willing to concede in changing their traditions for her?

"The Valaris are not like us. They are affectionate and gentle, especially their women. And any physical contact with a man who is not their husband is platonic. That she is allowing you to even see her this way before you are wed, means she is accepting _our_ ways. For the sake of your union and this alliance."

Cobra considered her for a moment. His father had a point. She was making a lot of sacrifices in her own traditions for the sake of this alliance. If the Valaris were really such giant prudes, then she'd probably be named the village whore just for accepting these modified versions of his own tribe's traditions. She was letting him see her entirely naked, when her own people would have kept their true forms a secret until they were already wed. She wasn't strong or a fighter like the women of his tribe. He could see the tenderness of her muscles that showed she'd never fought a day in her life. And still, she stood strong before him with confidence from some place whose origin he couldn't name. She didn't shy away from him... Not really. Not if he ignored how uncomfortable and scared she looked right then.

"Tell her… she is allowed to touch me."

"She won't do it," Acnologia said.

"Tell her," he growled. He waited for his father to say what he wanted, then grabbed her hand and pressed it against his chest. She still looked scared though. And when he glanced over to where his father was seated beside Laxus, with her two other brothers glowering at him from their places at Laxus' side, it was obvious that her brothers didn't approve in the slightest.

Cobra let go of her chin and her hand, and she took a quick step back from him.

"What's your decision, my son?"

She didn't meet his gaze again. "She's afraid of me," he said. "She refuses to look at me."

Acnologia's voice was gentle as he switched to the common language and spoke to her. After a moment's hesitation, she met his unwavering gaze. Thankfully, the tears that she'd nearly shed were gone.

" _Rollal, Lucy?_ " Laxus asked gently.

" _Mi gewelt_."

"Your answer," Acnologia said to Cobra.

"What does she say?" he asked. He wanted to know her answer first. He had to know what she'd said.

"She says-"

"I…" Lucy said slowly in the Dragos tongue, as though she had to think of each syllable she spoke before saying it. "I will… have you… for my."

"Take," Cobra said slowly. He watched her for a moment. "I will take you as my own."

She bit her lips and looked at Acnologia and Laxus, to Freed and Rufus, then back into his eyes. "I will… take you as my own."

Cobra smirked down at her. She'd said the words that he needed to hear. The words that were required by his people to show that both parties wanted the marriage to happen. He turned around to gather his furs and get dressed. It took all of his willpower not to laugh when Lucy squeaked again, and he heard her hand slapping against her face while she covered her eyes.

* * *

Lucy was more than thankful that Laxus couldn't just leave their tribe behind to see her wedding. He sent Sting in his stead, which was just as well, because at least Sting made an effort to keep her spirits high. He would have to leave the day after her wedding to give word to Laxus that her mark was gone, and that she was no longer a virgin. That her marriage had been consummated. And in two months' time, one of her brothers would be back to check on her, and see if she'd already gotten pregnant.

If she wasn't, they would wait another two months. And another two months after that, and so on until she was finally with child.

It was during the trip from her home to the Dragos' homeland - just across the plains and through a thicket of trees that took two days to travel on horseback - that she asked Sting what would happen to the alliance if she never got pregnant. What if she couldn't?

She'd held so tightly to his waist while they rode, and he told her that the marriage would remain. And as long as she was married to Cobra, the alliance would stand strong. She didn't ask about Cobra being killed while they were married. They both knew that she would still be considered his wife even after his death. She'd never be able to marry again. That was one of the few similarities between the two tribes.

And now, Lucy stood in a large hut in the center of the Dragos encampment, completely naked while three girls who couldn't have been any older than sixteen, who she couldn't even speak to, covered her in gold dust. No inch of flesh was left untouched by their dust-covered hands as they patted and rubbed it onto her body.

Cobra's mother stood off to one side, arranging furs and a few of the dresses that had been brought along with her. Acnologia had been kind enough to allow her to wear a modified version of her tribe's traditional gown. Where she normally would have had beaded closures holding the fabric together at her shoulders, would be bones that had been bleached for this one occasion. Lucy didn't know what sort of bones they were. It was all a little macabre for her tastes, but she didn't want to make waves.

The girls stood back and stared at her in wonder once she was completely coated in dust. Everything but her hair, from what she could tell.

" _Dolor mahra_ ," one whispered reverently. The three smiled at her with identical smiles and turned to Cobra's mother. Lucy had a feeling they were triplets. She eyed Lucy critically, then nodded and waved the girls away. Once they were alone, she ushered Lucy forward.

It was while Cobra's mother turned to start preparing utensils to style Lucy's hair that she really took a look at the older woman. This was the type of woman she was expected to be as the years went on. At first, all Lucy could see were the differences between them.

Where Lucy's skin was pale, this woman's was a deep tan. Her face was made of harsh lines that didn't detract from her beauty, with high cheekbones and a thin, delicate chin; Lucy's face was still rounded with youth. Every woman in this tribe had a smaller chest than her from what she'd seen. It only made her more aware of her own body and how awkward she still felt in it at times. But what really drew Lucy's attention was the style of dress. It was so much more revealing than what she was used to. Most of the women in the tribe that she'd seen had their breasts bared without a care in the world, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. Maybe her tribe was strange with their insistence that women's bodies be viewed only by their husbands and children, and only in the privacy of their home. The men only wore furs around their hips - she'd gotten quite the eyeful of several men's genitals while walking through the village.

Even Cobra's mother - Gods, Lucy wished she'd heard the woman's name! - was almost entirely nude. With the exception of fur wrapped around her hips and up between her breasts to drape over her left shoulder. There was no hiding the well-toned muscles of her thighs, the stretch marks on her stomach from carrying three sons who had, as Acnologia had told her, nearly been too large for her to give birth to.

"You have question?" his mother asked slowly in the common tongue. Lucy could only assume she had a moderate understanding of it, and that it wasn't usually used here. Even Acnologia's was a bit rusty, but he'd gotten better over the two days they'd been travelling.

Lucy waited until the woman turned to face her again. "Why, um… Why are the women…" She didn't know how to ask this question at all. "Their clothes, um…"

She laughed tenderly and placed her hands on Lucy's shoulders. "Woman body is gift from Gods," she said. "Why cover what men love most?"

Lucy blushed but still laughed along with her. She supposed that did make sense. The men in her tribe were definitely obsessed with the female body. "And you don't worry the men will… take advantage of that?" she asked, sobering after a moment. "Hurt you?"

Cobra's mother looked confused, but then Lucy tried to help her along by pretending to grab her chest. She laughed again and carefully patted Lucy's golden cheek. "No. Men would not live if they do this."

"Why not?"

"Because they know truth. Woman is strong. We give life to sons, protect homes." She smirked in a way that reminded Lucy very much of Cobra, just without the mouth full of pointed teeth. It was vicious and predatory, promising hours of pain and torment for any who crossed her. Lucy didn't think she'd ever be able to make a face quite like this. "They know we kill them if they not behave. Not just one woman, but all woman in tribe."

Lucy couldn't stop herself from giggling over it. She couldn't picture herself trying to kill a man. Not for groping her. But she'd heard stories before - and it had been confirmed by Acnologia - that the Dragos women weren't helpless. They fought just as fiercely as the men, but instead of going away to fight, they stayed back to protect their lands. It was the reason no one ever tried to conquer the Dragos. They couldn't get past the women.

And if it wasn't just one woman going after a man, but all the women in the tribe turning on a single man who'd dared to hurt them… she kind of liked that.

Cobra's mother picked up Lucy's dress and held it out to her, and Lucy paused in taking it. Maybe she could make a few more concessions and try to be one of the tribe. These would be her people. One day, after Acnologia had passed on to the next life, she would be their leader's wife. They had to see that she could learn to be more like them, to accept them as they were. Hopefully, they'd accept her as well.

"Would you help me?" Lucy asked. She ran her fingers over the dress, then looked into the older woman's soft fuschia eyes. "Can we make my dress more… Dragos?"

She smiled a bright, proud smile. "You will be beautiful Dragos bride. I help you."

Lucy let out a slow breath while getting the dress on the way it should have been worn. And over the next hour, she worked with Cobra's mother to cut away chunks of fabric and tie sections together until it was something worthy of being in a Dragos wedding. She wasn't comfortable letting everyone see her breasts, but luckily his mother seemed to understand.

"What does _dolor mahra_ mean?" Lucy asked, watching as Cobra's mothers dabbed a bit more gold dust on her body now that she was completely dressed.

She smiled while putting down the clay pot and picking up another with a bronze paste in it. She used her finger to swipe a bit on Lucy's lips, then her closed eyelids and her eyebrows. " _Dolor mahra_ ," she sighed. "Is like... How we say? Is like... beautiful face of the Gods." She laughed quietly and shook her head, and Lucy saw the barest hints of wrinkles in the corners of her eyes that made her seem more human, more like her own mother. "Acnologia can say better."

Lucy blushed and looked down at herself once the older woman stepped back. This was much more revealing than anything she would've worn with her own tribe, but if Cobra's mother approved, then she would wear this with pride. She knew that Sting would be there, watching the whole wedding. Hopefully he wouldn't be too shocked by her appearance. "Thank you."

"I teach you Draga. We talk more then... daughter."

Daughter. She wasn't going to let herself cry over that. Even if it had been more than ten summers since she'd heard a mother's love filling that single word.

* * *

"Look! She's an angel."

"The Gods blessed us with their own daughter."

Cobra heard the murmurs of his tribesmen before he saw Lucy appear. Down a short aisle of men and women gathered on either side, there she stood in a dress that he was sure had come from her home. Except no Valaris women wore their clothing like that. The pure white cloth was gathered around her breasts and pulled together just beneath them, held tightly in place by a bone clip made from a bird's skull. The rest of the material fell loose down her taut stomach and between her legs as she walked. Around her arms were shear strips of the same cloth, tied just under her shoulders and again at her wrists. He could see the tantalizing flesh of her shapely hips with every step she took. His gaze raked down her legs, pausing at her bare feet and the sight of an anklet made of bones that he knew had been given to his mother for her own wedding.

"Cobra, tell me she has a fuckin' sister," Gajeel groaned from just beside him.

He refused to look at his younger brother. It didn't matter that he was the only one who would be seeing her without that godforsaken dress on in only a short while. He wanted to soak in every step she took with the sun beating down on her pale skin. He wanted to watch the way the gold dust on her sparkled in the light, and how it made her hair seem so much lighter where it was piled high on her head in intricate swirls of liquid sunlight.

"He's not listening," Natsu chuckled. "I think he's in love."

"Fuck both of you," Cobra muttered.

"All three of you shut the fuck up," Acnologia growled. "If your mother hears you…"

He saw the moment she found his space at the end of the aisle, standing beside his father and two brothers. She completely ignored her own brother's gaping stare just a few steps away from them. He could nearly feel her eyes tracing each of his muscles covered in the same gold dust that was on her, lingering on the black furs wrapped around his waist and the bright red markings painted on his chest and arms. Her eyes flashed with intrigue at the sight of a bone necklace sitting just beneath his collar bones, identical in every way to the anklet she'd been given. It seemed she liked their jewelry. That was surprising.

She came to a stop in front of him, and he took another moment to look at her from head to toe. He kept his expression as blank and unreadable as ever. In just a short while, he'd be able to touch that small waist of hers. He would get to see her long sunkissed hair fanned out over their bedding. He would hear her screaming in ecstasy, and force louder cries from her until every Dragos man and woman knew she'd been claimed.

And Gods help him, he would be with her for every summer until eternity. She was going to be his, and his alone.

They weren't allowed to touch one another until the ceremony was complete, so he turned toward his father and she followed suit. Cobra had seen this ceremony dozens of times, so he didn't need to listen to what his father said as it went on.

Blah blah, everlasting, blah, strength and a bunch of other bullshit.

He wasn't even allowed to look at her until his father shut the hell up. By the time that happened, Cobra was actually ready to say this ceremony could go to hell. He wanted to look at this delicate, exotic flower of a woman who would be his. He wanted to memorize the waning sunlight on her face, the bronze color on her lush lips. The fabric dripping down the center of her stomach and baring her biteable waist and delicious hips.

Cobra didn't realize the mistake they'd all made until he turned toward her when it was time. She wasn't looking at him, but watching as Natsu and Gajeel carried a long rectangular sheet of iron over and placed it on the ground between them and Acnologia. As the head of the tribe, this was one of his duties, overseeing the marriage rites. But based on the fear in her wide, honey eyes, no one had told her what she would have to do.

He stepped away and took his place at one end of the metal sheet. She did the same after watching him for a cue on what to do. And since Lucy didn't know what was expected of her, he took the lead. He ignored his brothers' outstretched hands, offering to help him kneel on the sheet, and crouched down. With one leg, then the other, Cobra carefully maneuvered himself onto the rows upon rows of iron pyramid-shaped spikes jutting up from the sheet, then sat back on his heels.

He never looked away from her, so he saw the horror widening her eyes when she saw his lack of a reaction.

Cobra wanted to tell her it wasn't all that important, but he couldn't even speak to her. And it was important. For his people, this was essential. Their marriage wouldn't be recognized by the Gods if this didn't happen. And if he showed even the briefest reaction to the pain, he would be disgraced. He would lose his claim to take his father's place as the tribe's leader. They couldn't see any weakness from him. But she didn't know that she was supposed to kneel with him. Lucy didn't know that they weren't supposed to touch one another until their vows were complete. They weren't supposed to move at all aside from speaking their vows.

All Cobra could do was nod to her, and watch as his brothers came to her side. Natsu and Gajeel held her arms and carefully lowered her onto the spikes. They didn't let go until she was settled, and then arranged her hands on her lap properly. Cobra watched her intently as she tried to hide the pain from her expression. But she was too open for something like that. Too expressive. He actually liked that about her.

He ignored his father's words about what this all meant. Lucy couldn't even understand it anyway. Instead, Cobra watched her. The pinch between her bronze-dusted brows and how she bit her lips only slightly while trying to adjust to the pain. Lucy inhaled sharply when Natsu set a heavy chain on Cobra's shoulders. Her eyes followed his path to Gajeel who held nine more chains of equal weight.

When the second weight was settled on his shoulders and he felt the spikes piercing his legs, Cobra came to the realization that Lucy knew nothing about what was expected of her. She was supposed to take the second weight from him and wait for the rest to be settled on his shoulders. It was supposed to signify her sharing in his pain through their lives. But she didn't fucking know. Cobra couldn't tell her what she was supposed to do, but it seemed he didn't have to. She surprised him by reaching forward and gently touching his hands. For the first time, she touched him of her own free will. Slowly, Lucy's fingers glided up the length of his arms until they rested over the chains.

"Warrior need strong woman," she said in Draga. "We share."

He was stone still while she grabbed the chain, watching intently as she struggled to lift it from him. Neither of his brothers offered to help. Cobra wasn't allowed to do a thing. All he could bring himself to do was watch her refuse to give up. She was a stubborn one. He could see the pain in her eyes, but she didn't stop until the chain was on her own shoulders.

Her eyes closed and she breathed through the pain. For someone who hadn't a clue what she was getting herself into with this, Lucy took it surprisingly well. Luckily for her, that was all she had to do. She was only required to take one chain and bear that weight until she was told to remove it. Now, the rest was a test of his mettle. If he was able to handle nine of the ten chains without showing the agony piercing his legs as the ceremony continued, then he would be ensured his place as the next leader of the tribe. And he would be given permission from the gods to marry Lucy.

He could do this.

Cobra prepared himself as best as he could just before the second chain rested on his shoulders. He kept his gaze trained solely on her face when Natsu came closer. It wasn't until he felt Lucy gently squeeze his hands that Cobra realized she'd taken them into her own again once she'd gotten her chain settled. He didn't care any longer that they weren't supposed to be touching. This small comfort from her was all he needed to firm his resolve. He could do this. If she wasn't going to cry and beg for this to stop, then he wouldn't either.

Besides, he knew that her people were touch-obsessed. They were freakishly affectionate. He'd seen it for himself in the way they held one another's hands, kissed in greeting. How they hugged and held each other just because they could. The only time people held one another in his tribe was in a family. Husbands held their wives after lovemaking. Mothers held their children. That was it. And even then, it was a private affair. No one believed Acnologia was capable of tenderness, because they didn't see the way he was with his wife. Cobra and his brothers had seen on a great many occasions, how their father held their mother's naked, flushed body close to his. How he kissed her gently and the way he gazed into her eyes as though he could find the secrets of the world in them.

Acnologia continued speaking, but he stopped when Lucy quietly caught Natsu's attention before he could place the third chain on Cobra. "Share _mossa_ ," she said. Her brows furrowed as she looked at Acnologia. " _Mossa?_ "

"All," Acnologia said in Draga. Natsu looked to Acnologia for guidance. This was never done. Women didn't take more than one chain. They couldn't handle it. It was Cobra's job as her husband to bear the heaviest of burdens, to take on the weight of the world if he needed to. And all he needed was for his wife to be there and support him. But Lucy wanted to do this differently. She wanted to share it evenly.

Did that mean this was how she planned on living the rest of their lives? Standing by his side and facing things head-on with him as an equal?

"Do it, Natsu," Acnologia said. To the gathered crowd, he said, "Our new daughter has asked to bear the chains of destiny with equality." He paused when there was a round of murmurs from the tribe. A slow, proud grin stretched across his lips. "It seems she takes after my wife."

Cobra's lips lifted into an intrigued smirk as the second chain was set on Lucy's shoulders. His father had told them the story many times over the years, of how their mother had surprised everyone by demanding she get the same amount of chains as her husband. She'd said much the same thing as Lucy had, too.

" _A warrior needs a strong wife. If I cannot bear these chains, I am not worthy to bear his sons. We will share in this, as in all things in life."_

He wanted so badly to look at his mother, to see if she had coached Lucy in any way, but he wasn't going to look away from the woman who would soon be his wife. Every chain he received, she had one added as well. She held tightly to his hands, and he allowed himself a rare moment of open vulnerability by stroking his thumbs over her slender wrists.

She didn't look away from him when she repeated her vows in the common tongue. Acnologia had told Cobra that, because she'd had little time to prepare, he would help her along as best he could. Cobra, however, didn't need help. He knew the words he was supposed to say. What surprised him, was that he felt the truth in each word he spoke.

"I swear to you in front of my tribe and beneath the Gods, for all to see, our lives will be forever intertwined."

He'd always assumed that his marriage would be one of convenience, just something that was used as it was right then. To form an alliance with another tribe. To strengthen their own tribe.

"You will have my love in the summer when the sun scorches the earth."

Cobra had always thought he wouldn't find love. There was no room for something like that in his life. He was a warrior. Why would he ever submit to something so ludicrous? Why would he force someone to bear the pain of living a life without him if he was ever killed in battle?

"You will have my warmth in the winter when the snows come and steal the sun's brilliance."

But as he looked at this foreign woman with her golden hair and pale, gold-dusted skin that glittered in the setting sun, he found himself entranced.

"Our sons will be strong as the summer heat is heavy."

She was so exotic to him, something that he knew he would cherish if for no other reason than because she was like nothing else in his tribe. But it was more than that and he knew it.

"Our daughters will be fierce as the winds of winter."

It was something that he was sure only his mother really knew about. His father and brothers were solely focused on their prowess in battle, and Cobra had learned early on that his place as the first-born son meant he had to follow in his father's footsteps. So he'd crafted a mask that he never took off, one of the proud warrior everyone knew him to be. He maintained that image no matter the cost, no matter how heartless he appeared to everyone around him.

"I take you to be mine on this day, and for every day until the sun sets its final path across the sky."

He had a heart beneath it all, though. And Cobra knew he would be able to show that part of himself to Lucy. She was kind and gentle, he could tell just by looking at her. That secret place within his soul would be safe with a woman like her.

"I welcome you to my tribe," he finally said, completing the vows. Natsu moved forward and took the chains from Lucy's shoulders one at a time, then handed them to Gajeel who set all of them on Cobra's shoulders.

The weight was bearable, but the sudden flash of pain through his legs as his body bore down more heavily on the spikes had him nearly begging for mercy. Cobra held himself completely still with his back straight and his head held high. He would prove once and for all that this was his birthright and he had no intention of passing it by. Tears welled in Lucy's widened eyes, but he said nothing. He did nothing. Thankfully, Natsu and Gajeel were by her side once more, pulling her hands from Cobra's slowly tightening grasp and helping her stand on solid ground once more. She never looked away from him, and Cobra's body tensed under her scrutinizing stare. She had to see him as proud, strong, unwavering regardless of the pain. It was nearly done.

He could do this. He could show no weakness.

His gaze lowered to her legs, to the bleeding punctures in her once pristine flesh from her knees down to her feet. She would eventually have scars from this, but he would bear the same ones. And from this day onward, everyone would know that she was taken. Everyone would look at those scars and know she was strong enough to be his wife.

Natsu and Gajeel carefully led Lucy around the metal sheet to stand behind Cobra. He could hear the way her breathing changed as they stepped away from her, forcing her to bear her own weight fully. But she had to do this on her own. His father's voice was soft as he spoke to her, most likely telling Lucy she was supposed to remove the chains holding Cobra down. It was her job now to free him of his burden, to accept him into her arms as her husband.

He prepared himself for the slow process of each chain being taken from his shoulders. She'd had a hard time just lifting one and putting it on herself. It was normal for the women to take the chains off one by one.

Instead, he felt her fingers pushing under the bottom chain and brushing against his shoulders. She took her time getting them all in her grasp, and he heard how she held her breath when she lifted all ten heavy iron chains off of him at once. He couldn't stop himself from turning to look at her over his shoulder. Only his father and brothers were able to see the surprise widening his eyes at the sight of her slender arms trembling under the weight she carried.

Not even his mother had done something like this when she'd married his father. Not that Cobra knew of, at least. When he looked toward Acnologia, Cobra realized he was just as surprised.

The harsh clanging of metal falling to the ground filled the still air. Lucy took a step back and Cobra finally stood. He turned to face her while his father said the last of the marriage rites. Once it was finished, and he could hear the trilling hollers of his tribesmen, their eyes locked. She smiled at him for only a moment. It was a tiny, hopeful thing, that smile. And he wanted to give her one in return, but he couldn't. Not here. Not where others could see.

Instead, Cobra kept his face carefully blank. The only change in his expression was when Lucy swayed just a little before falling forward into his chest. He caught her easily, held her body against him for the first time, and turned to glare at his father.

"Your mother did the same thing," Acnologia chuckled. "Those chains are monstrous on a woman's body."

"Is she gonna be alright?" Natsu asked.

Cobra sneered at the both of them, then bent down and wrapped an arm behind her bloody legs to lift her up. He ignored the celebration that surrounded them and stalked past everyone - he barely caught the gentle, proud smile his mother gave him - down the aisle they'd made and on a direct path to his own hut.

Well, it was their hut now.

They would need to clean themselves up before consummating the marriage. He knew the bowl full of medicinal herbs was already waiting in their home. He would bandage her up, allow her to do the same for him, and then he could make her his. Deep down, his stomach fluttered at the thought of sharing this and everything else with Lucy. Sadly, the only thing she saw was how tight his jaw was, the sneer that pulled at his upper lip and bared his sharpened teeth, and the vicious glare he sent everything directly in front of him.

* * *

 _ **.The End.  
… For Now...**_

* * *

 **Important Note 1  
** I'm thinking this one may need to be revisited in the future with a full-length story. I had one more scene that I wanted to put into this, but I like how it ended here. At the same time, when I originally plotted this particular story out, I also wrote up several action-heavy scenes and some smut… But those wouldn't have nearly the same impact if I didn't add more between the marriage and those points. Character development and all that. One day, I'll revisit this. It'll appear as its own separate story, and may have more shit happen before the wedding. And then loads after the wedding.

 **Important note 2:  
So I saved revealing the bit about what inspired this until the end, because I didn't want to give anything away. As I said in the beginning, two things inspired this story.**

 **The first is** _ **Game of Thrones**_ **.  
** If you've seen the show (I haven't read the books yet), then I'm sure you'll pick up pretty quickly what I was inspired by (cough, Jason Momoa, cough). If you haven't, then I'll leave it a mystery, so I don't spoil anything in the show… for those, like myself until recently, who haven't had the time or willpower to sit down and just watch it.

 **The second thing that inspired some of this story is an** _ **Inuyasha**_ **fic called _Firangi_ by Maddie-san.  
**It's an absolutely amazing read. Sesshomaru/Kagome, they're both in tribes and speak different languages so most of the fic has them not even talking to each other. Or able to understand each other. I highly recommend this fic to anyone in the _Inuyasha_ fandom. And it's complete, so that's an added bonus!


	6. Day 5: Who Says Fairy Tales Are Normal

**I'd like to apologize to my readers.**

 _ **This story has been moved to a separate entry on FFnet.**_

You can find this entry under the story _Who Says Fairy Tales Are Normal?_

Although links don't work on this godforsaken site, here's the URL if you want to go that route instead. Just remove the spaces that are placed after the dots and slashes. Oh my god, I hate how the formatting is on this site.

fanfiction: s / 12556375/ 1/ Who-Says-Fairy-Tales-Are-Normal

(The link will take you to chapter 1, and is posted as such for those readers who haven't read the story yet. If you're caught up from last CoLu Week, then just click on down to the newest chapter.)

Sorry for the inconvenience. I just really want to make it easier for those of you who end up re-reading these stories, that way you're not forced to click all over the place just to read one story.

I'll see you back here tomorrow for Day 6: Pilot.


	7. Day 6: Just Wing It

**A/N: Welcome to Day 6! It'll be a short one this time around, but I saw a video on Facebook and I just couldn't help myself. Also, I was running out of time to write! I started writing this on June 12th, and I still had two more prompts to get finished! Forgive me!**

 **Also, this would probably have fit better under Day 8, but what I have planned for Day 8 right now is super long… So, I figured you guys needed a break after the very long chapter yesterday! ("But, Gem!" you might be saying. "We love the long chapters!" Well, you're in luck because the next two days are nearly 20k each.)**

 **Today, we have another Modern AU! It's more of a platonic thing, but I couldn't let this idea go once it popped into my head.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Day 6: Pilot**

 _ **Just Wing It**_

 _Summary: Erik knows he'll never win any awards for parenting, but he's not going to let a little stage fright stop his daughter from being the ballerina she wants to be._

* * *

Erik shuffled sideways down the aisle full of bustling dancer-parents to the empty seat beside his friend of more than thirty years, Macbeth. Even all these years later, the man he'd known since kindergarten was still wearing that god-awful makeup. At least it helped him stick out in the crowd of unfamiliar faces.

Erik didn't know any of these people. Macbeth did, though. He was currently in a very deep conversation about the quality of ballet slippers, and which stores carried the highest quality for the best prices. Erik knew nothing about any of that. He didn't really care about the price of ballet slippers, or pointe shoes, or the difference between Capezio and Theatricals tap shoes. Or why so many of the women were obsessing over the constitution of leotards, and how best to patch a tear right before a recital when there was no time to stop at the store and pick up a new one.

Well, he supposed, as he took his seat and Macbeth took note of his appearance, he should probably care about those things.

This was his own daughter's dance recital, after all.

"I'm surprised you made it," Macbeth said, turning toward him with wide coal-rimmed eyes and flawless lashes.

"You saved me a seat," Erik muttered. He pulled at the scarf he'd wrapped around himself three times over to combat the frosty December air in the parking lot.

"I always save a seat for you," Macbeth said. "That doesn't mean you ever come."

Erik winced and glanced around to see a few other parents staring at him. Did they know which of the girls was his daughter? Did they assume he was just some pervert, because he'd yet to come to one of her dance recitals? It really wasn't his fault. He wanted to come. Every single time she had something special that she was doing, he wanted to be there for her. He wanted to see it. To be a real dad.

The only problem was work. And the fact that he was a single parent. And that his Little Bean's mother left them when she was barely two years old for some other man, to raise _that guy's_ kids instead of her own daughter.

"You know I want to come," he muttered. Erik shimmied off his grey peacoat and removed his beanie. He brushed his fingers through his hair that was nearly down to his shoulders, spiking it up the way he preferred it.

"How many layers are you even wearing?" Macbeth laughed.

"Thirty seven," Erik said. He shot his best friend a smirk. "Thanks for getting her into this shit, man."

Macbeth's plum lips pursed and his eyes narrowed slightly. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic."

"I'm not. Really… I appreciate it. And everything you do for us."

He shrugged then and looked back toward the curtains still pulled closed over the stage. Erik knew that Macbeth hated the few times he got sentimental. Honestly, he didn't enjoy it that much either. But this was important. He really did appreciate everything Macbeth had done for him. And for Cynthia, his sweet little angel who didn't deserve the half-assed card she'd been dealt in the parent department.

"Anyway, she'll be happy to know you're here," Macbeth said. "But let's keep it a secret for now."

"Okay?"

"Her instructor says she's having issues with stage fright," Macbeth said. "We're hoping she'll get through the performance alright."

"She will," Erik chuckled. "My little girl's a total badass."

"Excuse me, sir, but could you watch your language?" a woman sitting in the row behind them asked quietly. "There are other children present."

Erik blinked and looked around. There was a baby four rows away, already sleeping, and a group of toddlers running around at the far end of the auditorium. Finally, he looked back at her. "No," he said slowly. "I'm not interested in your Mary Kay products, but thanks for asking."

"That's not-"

Macbeth elbowed him in the side, then turned and smiled at her. "Brittany, this is Cynthia's dad. Erik."

Her jaw dropped and she sat back a little. His eyes closed and he counted down from three in his head, waiting for the standard fare of conversation starters with his line of work.

"Oh, thank you for your service," she said. "You're in the Army?"

"Air Force," he said. "I'm a fighter pilot."

"And Brittany here's a divorcée," Macbeth cut in. "And she does a mean cross-stitch."

"You're so painfully domestic sometimes," Erik sighed.

"This is entirely your fault," Macbeth shrugged. "I cook and clean and raise your daughter, and in return I get to live in your house for free. You've made me into a _housewife_."

"Without the ring," Erik chuckled. "You're my house _mistress_ , man." He didn't even care that he got punched in the arm. Or that it actually hurt. Erik knew that Macbeth wasn't actually upset by it. "If I could get you on my insurance, I would in a heartbeat."

"Whatever," Macbeth shrugged, turning his attention back to the stage as the lights dimmed three times to let everyone know the performance was about to begin. "You pay for my insurance as it is."

"Dick," Erik snorted. He was still smiling as the house lights dimmed a final time and the spotlight shined down on the closed curtains.

"There are two classes before hers," Macbeth said softly.

Well, that meant that Erik had a few minutes to make sure his phone was ready to take a video, and to just generally fuck around. He didn't give a rat's ass about any of the other kids. Just his little Cynthia in her precious little tutu, doing some sort of ballet routine that he just knew was going to melt his heart.

* * *

Macbeth looked down at his phone just as the first performance ended, and frowned as he read a text message. He typed back a quick response, then stared at his phone and waited.

"Everything alright?" Erik whispered.

"Cynthia's instructor texted me," he said. "She says she doesn't want to do it."

Erik frowned. "How come?"

"Stage fright," Macbeth said, rolling his eyes. "I told you already. She's shy."

Erik didn't miss the very heavily implied, _You'd know that if you weren't such a shitty father_.

"It's pretty crippling, actually," Macbeth sighed, looking back down at his phone. "It's why she's taking dance in the first place. To help her come out of her shell."

"And is it working?" Erik whispered. The second performance seemed like it would be wrapping up soon, but he hadn't a clue if that was the case.

"She's been in dance for two years now," Macbeth sighed, glaring at him again. "This is the first performance she's freaked out about since her first one."

He was officially the worst father in the world. In the history of all things. Not even Harry Wormwood's super-glued bumpers and _I'm smart, you're dumb, I'm big, you're little_ rant could trump the level of horrible parenting Erik had reached with his inattentive bullshit with his own fucking daughter. His only child. His sweet little princess.

Or was she into ninjas now?

Fuck, he didn't know! But he was going to find out, damnit!

"She's backstage?" he whispered. Macbeth nodded, and Erik shoved his phone back into his pocket while he stood from his seat. "Be right back."

Macbeth grabbed the sleeve of his sweater and hissed, "Where are you going?"

Erik crouched down so he didn't block anyone's view. With a heavy glare, he said, "I'm going back there to help my daughter. I've been a shit dad for too long."

"You're a great dad," Macbeth said, tugging at his sleeve again. "Now sit down."

"Fuck off," Erik spat quietly while pulling his arm away from Macbeth's clutches. He made his way down the row of seats, sending quick apologies to everyone whose legs he brushed against. Finally, he reached the end and dashed to the stairs on stage left leading up to where the dancers were warming up.

Erik pushed through the curtain, his head swivelling one way and another in search of his daughter. He hadn't a clue what any of the other girls in her class looked like. He didn't even know what her teacher looked like. Or what the woman's name was. Or if it even _was_ a woman.

"Excuse me, sir, but you can't be back here."

Erik's attention shifted to a blonde woman wearing a black leotard, and a pale pink tulle skirt and tights. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head. "Good, a grownup," he sighed. "I need to find Cynthia."

He was not going to stare at her chest. He was able to see the tightening in the corners of her eyes that way. Well, he took note of it, and then looked over her shoulder to keep searching for his daughter. "And who are you?"

He couldn't find her purple hair anywhere in the throng of little ballerinas. He didn't even know if it was pulled into a bun or pigtails like a flock of girls to the left who were stretching their legs on the floor by doing splits. Erik placed his hands on the woman's shoulders and gently moved her to the side, then walked past her. "Cynthia," he whisper-shouted. He really didn't want to cause a scene. Or ruin the dance that was happening on the stage.

"Sir, you can't just-"

"Daddy?"

Erik's head snapped to the left, and he found her. Sitting on a director's chair off in the corner with tears in her bright indigo eyes. His steps were quick and sure while making his way toward her with a wide grin. A bun. Her hair was in a bun. Now he knew. "There's my little angel." He laughed when she smiled through her tears and vaulted from the seat, crashing into his legs a moment later.

"Daddy, you came!"

"Of course I came," he chuckled. Erik bent down and picked her up, laughing again when she latched onto him as though he'd disappear. He turned to find the blonde woman frowning at him. "My name's Erik."

Cynthia pulled back and smiled at the woman. "Miss Lucy, this is my Daddy! He stopped work and came!" She turned to look at Erik. "Daddy, Miss Lucy's my teacher."

Lucy's stern expression melted in a matter of seconds, and she smiled at Erik, extending her hand for him to shake. "It's nice to meet you," she said as he accepted her hand. "But you really shouldn't be back here."

"Macbeth told me that he got a text from you," he said. "Something about her not wanting to dance."

Lucy sighed and looked at Cynthia, finding her cheek pressed tightly against Erik's shoulder and her legs latched onto his waist. "It's just a little bit of nerves," she said. "Cynthia's gonna do a great job."

"Daddy, I don't wanna," Cynthia whimpered.

"Sweetie," Lucy said gently, "You know I'll be up there with you guys. If you forget any of the steps, you just look at me, and copy what I do."

Erik met Cynthia's glistening gaze, and shook his head. "She's right. I wanna see you dance. And you know, _I_ don't know if the moves are right. I'll only be watching you."

"You won't make fun?" she asked.

Erik's jaw dropped. Did she really think he'd tease her for messing up? "Never," he said.

Lucy looked over the group of girls around them. "Cynthia, it's time to get into position."

Cynthia looked at her father for another moment, then over to Lucy. "Okay," she said. Erik kissed her cheek and set her down, but he didn't take his eyes off of her. She didn't sound all that enthused about dancing. "You'll be watching?"

"Every second of it," he said. "And Macbeth is in the audience, recording it. He says you like watching it afterwards."

She hugged him again and rushed off to stand with a gaggle of little girls in pink tutus, and Erik sighed. He was a total failure. He didn't see Lucy's smile just before she turned away and helped to get the little ballerinas into position. He was far too focused on watching Cynthia. His little girl was growing up so much already, and he'd missed out on all of it.

Maybe it really was time for him to consider retiring. Getting a normal job that wouldn't have him gone for months on end in other countries while she stayed stateside and lived her life with his best friend acting as her father.

* * *

Erik didn't return to his seat. He stayed backstage and watched from there as Cynthia's class did an adorable little routine full of pirouettes and _jetés_ that were all over the place. And through it all, he'd finally gotten to see his daughter perform in more than just a video. He got to see _her_ doing it. Right there in front of him. And Erik didn't give a damn that she messed up on one pirouette and landed a little weird. She got herself right back into position with the other girls and kept going.

He hadn't known that she was going to stay on stage all by herself when the routine was finished and the curtain closed. Well, Lucy was there with her. Were they doing a duet then? Macbeth hadn't told him about this. Fuck, he wanted to be down in the audience watching it, so he could see her face while she danced!

Except then Cynthia pulled on Lucy's hand, and Lucy bent down in front of her and her brows drew together. And through it all, Erik watched the tension rising in his daughter's shoulders. He might not have been around for a lot of her life, and he might have missed her dance recitals and a birthday or two, but he knew when she was about to cry. Even when he couldn't see her face, he knew. She had a tell. Maybe it was something he'd picked up from being in the military, but he understood body language, and the tightness of her shoulders, the way her left foot shifted two inches back… She was going to cry.

Lucy gently took Cynthia's hands into her own just before Erik could rush onto the stage and grab his daughter to take her home. He froze when he saw the way Lucy smiled at her, kissed her little knuckles. He couldn't read lips all that well, but he had a feeling that Lucy was telling Cynthia, _You can do it. Be brave._

It's what he would have said to her.

Lucy brushed her thumbs across Cynthia's cheeks and stood, then nodded to the stage hand to lift the curtain. They both got into position with their feet turned outward and the right foot in front of the left.

He knew Cynthia could do this. He just knew it.

The music started, and she clutched tightly to Lucy's hand while they started to dance. Her movements were clunky, much less graceful than when the rest of her class had been around her. If they knew that Cynthia had stage fright like this, why would she be put on the spot and made to do a performance where she was the only one being watched?

Erik shuffled from on foot to the other, chewing on his thumb as the seconds ticked by. She froze when she was supposed to do a pirouette with Lucy. He was just happy that she was too young to dance on the tips of her toes. She could've gotten hurt with the sudden jolt of not moving an inch. He wasn't sure if she was even breathing.

Lucy stopped dancing, and tried to coax Cynthia into moving along with her, but it didn't work. His heart ached for his daughter, and it only worsened when her head dropped and he heard the first stirrings of a whimper from where he stood.

"Hell no," he muttered under his breath. Cynthia wasn't going to give up. And she wasn't going to cry. Not if he had any say in the matter.

Because even though Erik wasn't around as much as he should've been, it didn't mean he wasn't aware of how much she loved dancing. She'd been doing it ever since she could crawl. When she learned how to stand, he watched videos of her using the furniture to keep herself stable while she bounced along to Frozen on the television. When she was able to walk, he saw videos of her trying to mimic Dracula's dancing in Hotel Transylvania.

When she was just three years old, Macbeth sent him a video of her saying, _I wa'be barrina, Daddy_ , and then she spun in a circle in her little princess dress. He'd showed it to everyone in his unit overseas. And then everyone in the chow hall that he didn't know. He didn't give a shit what they were doing. His daughter wanted to be a ballerina. She was fucking precious.

But now she _was_ a ballerina, and this was her chance to show everyone that she was a total badass. When Erik heard her sniffle, saw how she wiped her eyes and turned away from the gathered parents who were starting to murmur, he jogged out onto the stage. He didn't care about any of them.

"Baby Bean, what's wrong?" he asked, kneeling in front of her.

"I don't wanna do it," she whimpered. "It's… It's too scary."

"It's not scary at all," he said gently. "Miss Lucy's with you, right?"

Cynthia nodded, looking deeply into his eyes. God, he was so happy she'd gotten his eyes. He could read her so fucking well. "Everyone's watching."

Erik smirked at her, and brushed away her tears just as they started to fall. "Fuck them," he whispered. "Their kids suck at dancing."

She giggled, and he was only vaguely aware of her teacher glaring at him.

"So why don't we show them how awesome you are?" he asked. Erik looked up at Lucy, his smirk widening only slightly. "Is it okay if she starts over?"

Lucy's lips pursed, but she looked back at Cynthia and relaxed her shoulders before she spoke. "Would you want to start again?"

"I-I dunno," Cynthia said. Erik leaned forward and whispered in her ear, and she drew back to stare at him with wide eyes. "Really?"

He nodded, his smile never leaving. "For you? Of course."

Finally, Cynthia smiled. She turned back to Lucy. "I'll do it," she said. "I'll be brave." She watched as Lucy walked off stage to talk with the crew, and placed her hand in Erik's.

Once Lucy was with them again, she took her position by Cynthia. Her brows drew together in confusion when Erik didn't leave the stage. Instead, he held onto Cynthia's other hand and slowly got his feet into the same starting position as them. "What are you doing?" she laughed. It was obvious he didn't know what he was doing, technically speaking. He'd never really danced a day in his life, with the exception of his wedding.

"She'll dance if I'm with her," he said. "So, here I am."

The music started, and he kept his gaze on Lucy to follow her lead, just like Cynthia did. His turns weren't graceful. His _jetés_ were atrocious, and his _brisé_ looked as though he was running in the air. But Erik was much more concerned with the sudden smile on his daughter's face when she looked up at him instead of over at Lucy.

And he was never more proud of her than in that moment, when she stopped watching Lucy entirely and looked out into the crowd. Lucy surprised him by grabbing his hand when Cynthia took a step away from them.

"Don't think you're getting out of this now," she whispered. Erik chuckled and followed her lead, dancing behind his daughter while she performed a solo. Luckily, it was just a few _pliés_. He could handle those.

He didn't know what the move was called when she went started turning in one place with her leg sticking out to the side to give her more momentum. What he did know what that it looked like she should be getting dizzy. But she just kept turning. On her toes, leg out then pulled in, arms in front of her.

Every time he got a quick glimpse of her face, his daughter was smiling. She was happy. Proud. And he was right there with her.

She stumbled a little bit when she came out of the final turn, but Cynthia corrected her footing and held her position just as the song ended. The audience cheered. They roared for her. Erik was only able to give her a little time to bow before he rushed forward and scooped her up into his arms.

"Best dancer in the world," he said in her ear, making sure she could hear him. "I'm so proud of you."

Cynthia hugged him back with all the strength she possessed. She turned to look at the audience when he set her down on her feet, then grabbed his hand and grinned up at him. "Bow, Daddy. You danced, so you have to bow."

Lucy held Cynthia's other hand, and they all looked at the crowd, then bowed low. Erik didn't want people cheering for him. All he'd done was help his daughter dance. But, if she wanted him to bow, then that was what he'd damn well do for her.

The curtain closed and they stood to their full height. Instantly, Cynthia jumped up into his arms again, and he walked with Lucy off the stage so the next dancers could take their places.

"Cynthia," Lucy said, turning back to face them, "You have one more dance with the girls. Can you go help them stretch and get some water?"

Cynthia nodded and kissed Erik's cheek, then made her way over to the group of girls that he could only assume were in her class.

"Thank you," Lucy said. "She's been wanting to do a solo for a while, but she's so shy we didn't know if she'd be able to do it."

He nodded and walked a little further from the stage with her. "That's what Macbeth tells me," he said. "Well, not about the solo. I didn't know she had one."

"I've never seen you at a recital before," she said carefully. Ah, the dreaded question. Why was he never around? She didn't ask him outright, which was a small saving grace, because there were people who really did ask why he was never there for his daughter. He wanted to punch those assholes right in the fucking face.

"Well, Macbeth is usually the one taking care of her," he said. His gaze slid over to his daughter, and he found her taking a sip of water from a bottle with her name on it in bright green, sparkling letters.

"Yes, he's there for every rehearsal," she laughed. "Some of the mothers were a little wary of him at first."

"It's the makeup," Erik said. "I keep telling him to cut it out, but he just stares at me, and then he keeps contouring."

Lucy threw a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. She took a moment to collect herself before speaking again. "Well, I'm sure Cynthia's happy that you came today."

"I am, too," he said. Finally, he looked back at her. "It's a whole lot better, being able to see her dancing right here. Videos just aren't the same."

"Well, we do try to make sure the recitals are at a manageable time for parents," she said, frowning. "Is there a time that would work better for you with your schedule?"

Erik gave her a sad chuckle. "Not unless you only want to have these once a year." She looked a little confused, and he could only assume that Macbeth had never actually told her what he did for a living. Considering she hadn't known that he was Cynthia's father, maybe Lucy had thought that Macbeth was her dad. He'd been more of a father to her than Erik had ever been, that was for sure. "I'm a fighter pilot in the Air Force," he said. "And I'm usually deployed for at least ten months out of the year. Even when I'm back home, they send me to training and…"

Her brows furrowed as he brushed a hand through his hair. It really was too long to fit military standards, but he'd gotten it to grow out just long enough to tie back and tuck under his cap while in uniform, so they couldn't make him cut it.

"I miss everything," he said. "And if it wasn't for my best friend stepping up to help me raise her when my wife left us, I don't know what we would've done."

"I never knew that," Lucy said. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her eyes widening slightly when her fingers flexed around his bicep. "You said your wife left?"

"When Cynthia was two," Erik said. "She ran out on us." He didn't usually like talking about this, but if Cynthia was going to stay in Lucy's classes, he supposed it was a good idea to let the woman know about her home life.

Lucy pulled her hand away, tucking it behind her back. "Well, maybe after the recital, we can talk some more," she said with a teasing smile. "I've gotta herd some cats."

Erik laughed and turned away from her. He caught Cynthia's eye and pointed toward the curtain. "I'll see you out there," he said. She nodded and he finally made his way back down the stairs and into the auditorium to take his still-empty seat beside Macbeth. Once he was seated again, he sighed and let himself relax. He hadn't realized just how tense he'd been.

Macbeth leaned over slightly and whispered, "I got all of that on video. You are officially the father of the year."

"No way," Erik snorted. He was the furthest thing from a good dad. Or even a decent one. All he did was make sure his daughter got to dance. And sure, he always made sure that she had money for food and clothes, a roof over her head. There was always someone there for her, namely Macbeth. But Erik was never there to teach her anything. He was never there for her to turn to with questions.

But just this once, he'd been there. And she'd looked so happy to have him there for her, helping her get through her dance. He was going to hold onto that feeling for as long as possible.

 _ **.The End.**_


	8. Day 7: For You, My Queen

**A/N: The week's nearly done! I have no words, you guys. Now, I'd originally planned on having today and tomorrow as two more Fantasy AU prompts, but plans change. So, this is the final Fantasy AU prompt for CoLu Week this year. Tomorrow will be a Modern AU (and will be posted as its own story, just as a reminder).**

 **I hope you guys enjoy it. Let's call this a…** _ **Dark**_ **Fantasy AU with a dash of Norse inspiration (possibly not wholly accurate, but at the very least in that general direction). There's one more aspect to this that made me really excited to write it, but I'll leave that for the end so nothing gets spoiled!**

 **I cut this off much earlier than I wanted to, but I had a lot of ideas for it, and very little time to actually get it written. It just barely fits with the prompt, because one section that was cut due to time constraints had a whole thing about a staff… anyway, see the note at the end!**

 **Let's get on with the story!**

* * *

 **Day 7: Staff**

 _ **For You, My Queen**_

 _Summary:_ _The time is drawing nearer for Lucy to find a man to father the heir to the Northern Kingdom. During a raid in the south, she believes she's found the perfect one. The only problem is that he refuses her advances at every turn. She can't send him away, though. Can she find a way to bring him around, or will the rest of their days be spent with him bound so she can finally have the heir she's destined to?_

* * *

The queen of the northern realm slowly sat up in her bed at the quiet shuffle of armor from the night darkened doorway. Sun-kissed hair fell down past her shoulders in soft waves, mussed from a restless sleep. Pale moonlight cascaded through the window on the far side of the room, only just illuminating her husband's battle-weary face as he drew nearer to their bed. He'd been gone for weeks already, and she was more than happy to see the ease of his steps. He hadn't been hurt.

She'd already gotten word back that the raids she'd sent him and her second-in-command, Erza, on had been successful. She'd just needed to see for herself that he was unharmed.

The blanket slipped down past her swollen belly to pool around her hips. With a wave of her hand, magic slithered from her fingertips and wafted through the air to light every brazier on the walls. As soon as she saw him completely, her body responded. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of his calloused fingers unfastening the buckles on his armor. Her heart pounded beneath her breast at the heat pouring from his single indigo eye.

"The children?" she asked. His lips quirked in a half-smile, one that she knew meant he'd heard just how breathless she was.

The pleasure he'd wrought on her body over the years had conditioned her to react like this to him. She knew this, but it didn't matter. She didn't fight it. Fighting her desire for him would be as effective as fighting against the Gods with nothing more than a stick.

"Asleep," he said. His voice made her tremble. "Virdani and Iben grow more every time I leave."

She bit her lips as his armor fell to the floor. She hadn't seen his grey fur cloak, but he must have removed it already. His movements were slow, methodical, as he stripped down completely. It gave her all the time she needed to rake her eyes over the muscles that had broadened his shoulders in the past ten years, the bulk of his arms. She spent more time than usual appreciating how thin his hips were.

He grabbed the blanket and ripped it away from her, and she smiled when his tanned fingers cupped her dripping center beneath her nightclothes. Just one touch was enough to send her head spinning. Seeing him crawl onto the bed, closer to her, how he hovered over her and his breath warmed her lips, was a sure way to have her whimpering with need.

But she didn't whimper. She was a queen. She ruled the northern realm, and commanded an army of nearly 15,000 soldiers. Her most trusted general, her husband, knelt before her on her throne and bowed his head to show his fealty in front of those they rules. She wouldn't make such a disgraceful sound.

"Do it," he rasped. His fingers slid lower, teasing her entrance with tight circles that he knew would leave her a panting mess. "You know I love it when you give in."

"Never," she hissed. Oh, but she wanted to. And he knew it, if the way his lips curved a little more was any indication. Slowly, her sex stretched around his fingers, and then he stopped. He waited. He didn't stop her from shifting to take his fingers in all the way, but she couldn't move all that well now. Not while she was this rounded with child.

And the bastard knew it. She was stuck, desperate for him. Oh, she'd taught him too well, it seemed. All that time she'd spent, breaking him in, molding him to be the perfect lover for her - how surprised she'd been when she finally discovered how voracious his appetite could be - and he used it against her.

"Won't you let me please you, my Queen?" he asked. His hand shifted, and that sad little sound slipped from between her lips, just like he'd wanted. As soon as it did, his lips captured hers in a kiss that was equal parts love and vicious need. She could still taste the sweat and blood on his lips, the dried meats he'd eaten on his journey home. He tasted of battles that she'd spent years fighting for herself. But now, her place was as the ruler, a delegator of battles considered beneath her.

Now, her duty was to rule and bring the heirs into the world. To raise them and protect her keep from intruders.

She was just happy to have someone like him by her side. And to think, he'd been such a savage beast when she'd found him…

* * *

The sky was painted orange from the burning buildings with thick black plumes of smoke billowing high above them. Metal clashed against metal as the northern warriors raided the village. Women screamed, babes cried out for their mothers, for their fathers' heads to stop rolling through the blood-soaked mud.

The ends of her golden hair were matted with thick crimson fluid. He couldn't stop himself from watching the way she spun and ducked low to avoid the sword being swung right at her head. She moved so easily in her leather armor. Her lips pulled up into a snarl, and she let out a mighty roar while thrusting her sword into Dag's stomach. She ripped the sword up through his chest and out of his left shoulder. Bright splashes of red danced through the air and landed on her cheeks.

This small woman from the north had taken down one of the village's most decorated warriors so easily. She had to be killed. From what he could tell, as he brought his sword down on a woman with light green hair and turned to face more of his enemies, this woman was the leader.

If he could kill her, then he'd be a hero.

Blonde hair, small stature, with a war cry loud enough to raise the dead. She was the one they'd all heard of.

The Great Northern Queen.

Erik's muscles screamed as he hacked his way through the village. He didn't pay attention to where his sword swung while fighting his way toward her. He didn't mind the way his fingers grew slick with the blood of his enemies, how he had to adjust his grip on his sword's hilt with each life he took.

She turned toward him, and her wide, crazed eyes locked onto his. Mud coated her legs, her arms, had splashed onto her pale cheeks to mix with his people's blood. And then she smiled.

He didn't speak to her. There was no need for talk when she would be dead soon. Erik held his sword high and rushed toward her. He swung with all the force he could muster, reveling in the way she grunted with exertion when their swords clashed. He knew that she was light on her feet, that she would use anything to her advantage. He had to make this quick.

Erik bore down on her, but she managed to push his sword out of the way. He should have known that she would elbow him in the face. Whether his nose was broken wasn't important. He was too bloodthirsty to feel the pain as he rushed for her again. They danced around one another, their swords meeting again and again and sending sparks flying. His foot connected with her stomach, sending her crashing to the ground. But instead of finishing her off, Erik waited. He waited for her to stand and fight him again. He wanted to kill her, but it wasn't going to be easy. First, he had to wear her down, make her beg for mercy. And then, _then_ he would kill her.

Only after he'd broken her spirit.

So he kept fighting her, meeting her heavy blows with ones equal in strength. She was a vicious fighter, he thought as her heavy gauntlet slammed into his cheek with enough force to send him stumbling back. And that was his mistake. Erik knew it when she kicked his knee and it buckled. The back of her gauntleted hand sent his head flying to the side before his knees hit the ground. He braced himself on his hands and knees and coughed when she kicked him in the ribs.

"Bow before me, and I'll let you live," she said.

"Fuck you."

Her fingers rooted themselves against his scalp and dragged his head back so he could look into her eyes. The smile she gave him was something cold and chilling, completely devoid of tenderness even as her free hand gently caressed his cheek. This close to her, he could see the light freckles across her nose. She was so deathly pale. Did they not have sunlight in Nilfheim?

"Tell me your name," she said. She kicked at his hand before he could raise his sword, then crushed it beneath her boot until the bones shifted. "Tell me!"

"Why would I give my name to a northern whore?" he snarled.

Her hand gripped his cheek tighter. "You have such beautiful eyes," she hissed. She pulled his head back further, leaned over him a little more so her blood-soaked hair fell around his face. His eyes widened in horror as her thumb brushed over his right cheek for only a moment before she dug it into the socket.

Erik screamed as the pressure became too great to bear. He felt the pop, heard that sickening sound reverberate in his skull. Her breath was hot and heavy against his face as he clawed at her with his free hand. The pain was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was worse than a sword slicing at his thigh during training when he was just a teen. Worse than being beaten by the barkeep for sneaking scraps of food from the kitchen. Worse than the pangs of hunger that doubled him over when he was just a child, alone and searching for food.

She pushed him to the ground and his muddy hand came up to cover the empty, bleeding socket. He saw the way she grinned at him. How she brought her thumb to her lips, and her devilish tongue slipped out to lick it clean.

Then she turned and started to walk away from him. The sounds of fighting around them filtered back in. He'd been so consumed with her, he'd forgotten that there were others there, fighting to protect their homes, their families. He didn't have either of those. Erik wandered through life, jumping from one village to the next over the past twenty years, hoping to find a place to call home. He'd hoped that this place could be his home. He'd sworn to the village elders that he would protect it with his life.

It took all the strength he possessed to reach out for his sword and stand once more. She didn't hear him. If she did, then she ignored him, already thinking he was no longer a threat.

Erik adjusted his grip and lunged, bringing his blade down on her arm and cutting deep into the muscle. His head swam as he watched several locks of her golden hair fall to the ground along with his sword. When had he let go of it?

She whirled in place and her boot connected with his stomach again, sending him sprawling across the ground.

A woman with bright red hair towered over him, her sword aimed at his throat. "Allow me to kill him for you, my Queen," she said.

"Erza, no," the Queen said, staying the other woman's hand just before she could swing. He turned his attention to her, barely saw her intrigue as she glared down at him. "He's mine."

"He will be dead soon," Erza said.

The Queen crouched down, placing her knee on his shoulder to keep him pinned. She didn't need to. He couldn't find the will to move any longer. He'd tried to kill her, and he'd failed. The longer he looked up at her, the more his vision blurred. She doubled, tripled, and each copy of her that swam above him had the same chilling smile. Her hand brushed across his cheek, and her fingers came away soaked with his blood.

"This one belongs to me," she said. "I will entrust you with his survival to the keep, Erza. Let no harm come to him."

"Crazy bitch," he rasped. "I'll kill you."

Her eyes flashed with excitement, and she leaned closer. He groaned when more of her weight pressed down on his shoulder. "You can try."

* * *

His eye slowly opened to find a stone ceiling high above him. Beneath him was something warm and soft, a bed he realized after a moment. Exhaustion clawed at him, but he couldn't dwell on it. His fight with the Northern Queen flashed in his mind, with the vivid images reminding him of the pain in his bones, his joints, down to his very soul.

To think, he'd been beaten by a woman. A woman who was so much smaller than him.

His head throbbed, and he lifted a hand to press it against the bandages over his right eye. That's right, she'd gouged it out. How could he have forgotten about that?

"It is good to see you awake."

Erik's head turned too quickly, sending a bright flash of pain through his skull. When his vision cleared, he saw here there. Standing by the door with her arm held in a sling, she watched him closely. She'd cleaned herself up in the time he'd been unconscious. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the low light given off by a cluster of nearby candles, and her hair was no longer drenched in blood. His eye narrowed at the sight of her. He was going to kill her. But not right then. Just breathing was a chore. As long as she didn't kill him outright, he would bide his time and kill her when he'd regained his strength.

She closed the door she'd been standing in front of, then slowly walked toward him. Her steps were careful, but he noticed the distinct lack of sound as she walked. Still, he didn't look away from her penetrating gaze. He wouldn't show any more weakness in front of her than was absolutely necessary.

She sat on a stool beside the bed, then smirked down at him. "I will tend to your wounds," she said. "But you must not fight me."

He said nothing. He simply watched as her hand drew nearer. She carefully removed the bandages from his face, and he couldn't stop the hiss that escaped him when she lightly prodded at his cheek. She lifted a bowl from the floor and set it on her lap, then rung out a scrap of cloth. At the first touch against his forehead, Erik sighed in relief. He couldn't help it. He hadn't realized how warm his face felt, but the cloth was cool, refreshing. It soothed a bit of the pain.

"I'm sure you're wondering what's to become of you," she said.

His eye closed as she rung out the cloth again. If she planned on killing him, then it would have happened already. Unless she was going to let him heal and then torture him… But even then, he was resigned to his fate. At least, for now.

"My armies have razed your village and the surrounding villages to the ground," she said. He didn't care about the lives that had been lost. "We control the land down to the Iron Forest now."

That was miles away from the village she'd captured him in. They'd gone so far south… How long had he been unconscious?

"I have brought you north, and you will never return to that hellhole you call a home." She set down the bowl and grabbed another from the floor, setting it in her lap. Her fingers stirred the contents, and came away with a sticky green salve that she carefully rubbed on the bruised, swollen flesh where his eye had once been.

"And what will you do with me?" he asked. She paused for a moment, and he looked into her calculating honey eyes. Her expression was softer than he remembered. She didn't seem nearly as strong or domineering as she'd been on the battlefield. He might have ventured to say that she looked innocent, had he not been on the receiving end of her wrath. "I know your people take slaves."

"As do yours," she said. "That's how things work." She cleaned her fingers in the water bowl she'd used to wash his face, then prepared new bandages. "But unlike the others, I've chosen you for a specific purpose."

"And that is?" He saw the small wince she let escape while bringing her injured arm out of the sling. He didn't miss the bandages wrapped around her bicep, or the splash of red soaking through them. She stayed silent while carefully wrapping bandages around his head, over his missing eye.

Once she'd finished and had her arm back in its sling, she said, "You belong to me now. I greatly admired your spirit in battle. You're quite the warrior."

He would forever deny that he flinched when she pulled down a blanket he hadn't been aware of until that moment to expose his chest and stomach. Her fingers prodded at his side, and he hissed at the deep, throbbing pain that bloomed in her wake.

"And you cut me," she said with a short, huffing laugh. "Erza was ready to kill you for that."

"You deserved it," he ground out. "I should have taken _your_ eyes."

The look on her face was nearly playful, definitely full of mischief. "All things considered, you should count yourself lucky that you even hit my arm." If he could have moved, Erik would have attacked her right then. But he couldn't move without being in pain. Just turning his head to keep her in his sights was nearly enough to send him careening into darkness once again. "But..."

He tensed when she pushed the blanket lower and he felt the cool air of the room on his genitals. Was he naked then? What the in the nine hells was she doing?

"I need someone just like you. Someone strong, stubborn… A real warrior."

"You killed Dag," he said. "He was the best warrior in-"

She scoffed as her fingertips feathered over his hips. "That… _thing_ was no warrior," she spat. "All muscle and no brain. I need a man with a brain."

His lip curled into a sneer as she cupped his genitals and looked back into his eye. Erik tried to pull away, to ignore the pain that flared across his chest as he smacked at her hand. "Don't fucking touch me."

She smiled at him, seemingly unperturbed by his outburst. "But you lasted in a fight against me," she said. She grabbed his wrist and looked down at his deeply tanned knuckles, then brought them to her lips. When he tried to pull his hand back, her thumb dug into the underside of his wrist, forcing his fingers to curl into a useless fist. "You survived my blade through intellect, more than strength."

He still tried to fight as she brought his hand above his head. The muscles in his shoulder screamed, and he was so swept up in forcing his mind away from the pain that he didn't realize she'd secured a length of rope around his wrist until it was too late. And with one hand bound to the bed, he knew it was useless to fight her. Even as she crawled up onto the bed and sat astride his hips, he knew nothing would come from struggling. So Erik fought harder, regardless of the pain that knocked the air from his lungs when his hips shifted to upend her.

"You shouldn't fight too much," she laughed. Was this nothing more than a game to her? She propped herself up on her knees and he sent his fist sailing toward her face. The pain was worth it when his knuckles connected with her jaw, nearly knocking her off of him. But then she grabbed his hand and slammed it against the bed. She moved and used her legs to hold his arm down while tying a rope around his wrist.

"Just fucking kill me," he spat.

"Kill you?" she laughed. "But if I kill you, then how will I get the heir I want?"

Erik froze in his struggling and stared up at her in disgust. "That's vile."

"Is it?" she asked. Slowly, she moved down the bed and straddled his hips again. Her fingers walked along the center of his stomach, up to his chest.

It was when he glared up at her that Erik realized she wasn't wearing her armor. She was vulnerable, wearing nothing more than a slip of night black fabric that heavily contrasted her pale skin. Her armor had hidden the soft curves of her body. He hadn't seen the generous swell of her breasts before. He'd seen her legs, the power in them, the way her muscles tightened as she moved. And her arms, how a single swing of her sword could decapitate a man as though his neck was nothing more than a blade of grass.

But with no armor to protect her, he could see _her_. And for the briefest of moments, the color of her skin and her place as a woman from the north, the fucking Northern Queen, wasn't at the forefront of his mind.

"Should you agree, you'll want for nothing. And once I have my heir…" She smiled and leaned closer to him. Erik wriggled against his bound wrists as her hair trailed over his stomach. "You'll be my general. Honored and revered as the North King, leading my armies against the people who raised you."

She didn't know that no one had raised him. He'd been left to fend for himself since he was a child. Still, he snarled up at her and ignored the way the rope chafed his skin. "I would rather be burned alive than father your demon spawn!" He would kill himself before he allowed her to do anything to him. He wasn't going to give this insane queen what she wanted.

She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his flaccid cock, grinning when he bit back a groan. No matter how he moved, she followed, slowly stroking him until his body betrayed him entirely.

"It seems the Gods favor this," she whispered, tracing one finger around his swollen tip. "But you are still healing. You need time."

"Don't fucking touch me!" He turned away as her lips came closer, and he cringed as her tongue slid across his jaw. He shifted roughly to one side, and gasped as pain flared in his chest again. The fabric of her dress was soft and tantalizing as it slid over his thighs. His eye clenched shut when he felt her lips surrounding his cock, slowly sucking him further into the warm, wet heat of her mouth.

He was going to kill her for this.

* * *

Lucy smiled as she walked into the room and found him bound at the far wall with his hands over his head. Her eyes raked over his dark skin, the defined muscles of his stomach and chest, his shoulder-length maroon hair that was soaked from a recent bathing. She followed a droplet of water as it travelled down to the top of his loosely fastened pants.

It was the least she could do for him. She didn't want anyone else seeing what was hers.

It had been a week since she'd first come to him. She'd forced herself to wait, to not indulge in her desire just yet. He wasn't ready. But he was healing nicely, from what she'd been told. He ate with no issues for the guards who were tasked with feeding him.

His head lifted slowly, and she suppressed a shiver at the intensity of his single indigo eye as it bored into her. She took her time closing the door, walking closer and picking up a cloth to dry him. Once she was within reach, his foot shot out to kick at her. Lucy laughed and sidestepped it. She watched as he almost lost his footing. He must still be weak then. "There's that fire I like to see," she said.

"I'll set _you_ on fire," he spat. She heard the way his voice trembled though, and her smile faded just a little. She watched him in silence, saw the way he tried not to shiver from the chill in the air. He wasn't used to the cold. She hadn't thought about that. Where he was from, it never snowed; meanwhile, there was hardly a day without snow where her keep was nestled in the northern mountains.

"You're cold," she said.

"Fuck you!"

Lucy sighed and moved forward, glaring when he started to struggle against his the rope binding him. She lifted the cloth to his chest, slowly wiping away the water clinging to his skin. Such beautiful skin. Such a dark, exotic color that begged for her lips and teeth to drag across it. But she could have patience for something like that. He needed to be dried first. "Have you been bound like this for very long?" she asked.

The harsh lines of his face were made more severe when he sneered down at her. She hadn't even realized how much taller he was than her until that moment. "Since you tried to rape me," he said.

"Bring your head lower," she said. He didn't move. "I'll dry your hair, if you lower your head."

"Go to hell." She wasn't going to let him freeze. Too many times, she'd seen the things that the cold could do when one didn't dry themselves properly. A missing eye and her offer to make him the father of the future queen would be the least of his worries if he grew ill from his stubbornness.

The only issue was that he was two heads taller than her. So, Lucy did what was needed. She moved to a pulley off to the side, far enough that he couldn't reach it even with his legs, and gave him more slack. His arms lowered bit by bit. As she'd expected, he was still too weak to stand properly. His legs buckled under his weight, pulling his hands above his head once more as he landed heavily on his knees. She didn't miss the pained groan coming from him as he tried to roll his shoulders. So they _were_ sore. Maybe she could do something about that. She did still need him to fight in the future. It wouldn't do if he was made unable to swing a sword.

Lucy brought the cloth to his hair. He shied away from her, but she pressed onward, carefully pulling his thick locks away from his face. She was surprised to find his ears were pointed as she moved his hair to the side. Was he not a human? This may have all been in vain if he wasn't. She couldn't have an heir with someone who wasn't also human.

His head snapped in her direction when she touched his ear. "Stop touching me."

"Why do your ears look like this?" she asked. "Are you half Jotun?"

"Do I _look_ like a giant?"

"Then why?"

His jaw tightened and he looked away from her. If he wouldn't tell her, then she could be patient. But she couldn't take what she needed from him until she knew. Instead, Lucy continued drying his hair, then moved down to his shoulders, along his spine. When she reached the band of his pants, she paused. He'd stopped breathing. Was he waiting for her to touch him again?

Well, he would have to keep waiting.

Lucy returned to the pulley and lowered his arms further. Once his hands sat in his lap, she walked behind him and knelt as well. "Are you in pain?" she asked.

"What does it matter to you?"

"I can't get what I want if you hate me," she laughed. She rested her hands on his shoulders and lightly massaged from his neck down to the center of his back. It was partly to ease him, but it also gave her ample reason to feel his skin. His hidden strength. She massaged in slow, careful circles, and waited for the moment he started relaxing. She prolonged that moment, letting it stretch onward for several minutes. If she jumped on the chance to touch him more intimately as soon as he relaxed, he would trust her even less. Her thumbs dug into the space between his shoulders and spine, and he sighed in contentment. He was still relaxed. This was perfect. Her nose brushed along the shell of his pointed ear and he gasped. "Does this feel nice?"

"Stop."

She grinned as her fingers dug into his shoulders a little more and he groaned. "It's a simple answer. Tell me, am I doing this right?"

"... Yes."

"I've never done this before," she said. Her hands glided higher to the base of his skull. "I know that, if done right, this is very relaxing."

She was rewarded with another sigh from him. His head rested a little more heavily in her hands as her fingers sifted through his hair. Slowly, Lucy moved in closer until she was pressed against his back. She set his head on her shoulder and continued massaging his shoulders.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I can't try and make you more comfortable?"

He scoffed, but didn't try to stop her from massaging up to his temples, behind his ears, down the column of his throat and back again. "Everyone wants something in return for kindness," he said.

"You know what I want from you."

"I'd rather be dead," he said. Maybe he expected her to get angry with him. She didn't. Maybe he'd anticipated retribution for his tone. There was none. Instead, Lucy simply laughed quietly in his ear, brushed her nose through his hair, and continued massaging him.

"Well, if you promise not to try attacking me, maybe I'll consider not having you bound so uncomfortably."

"I can't make that promise."

Her hands finally stopped moving when they reached his chest. Maybe it was too soon to offer something like that. He'd given her no proof that he could be trusted. She'd yet to break him of his loyalty to Muspelheim. Until that day came, he had to stay bound. He didn't try to move away from her, even when her hands stayed on his chest. Not even when her fingers brushed over his dark nipples. She moved on quickly, though, and rubbed slow circles into the muscles of his chest. The front of his shoulders. His upper arms and down to his elbows.

"Am I still doing this right?" she whispered.

"Yes," he breathed. She loved that he'd relaxed in her embrace. After how he'd reacted to her touching him the last time, Lucy hadn't known whether this would work. But she'd been told that it was a good idea to bring him to this state before trying to seduce him again.

"You won't be my slave," she said. "I expect you to tell me if you're ever mistreated in my absence."

"Why would you care?" She brought her hands down to his lower back, splaying her fingers over the corded muscles and slowly easing them. She smiled when a soft groan caught in his throat.

"Because you'll be the father of my heir," she said. "And while you may not see right now, how fortunate an opportunity this is… You will."

"I'll die well before I'll ever agree to that." She laughed again. At the soft brush of breath on his ear, he tensed. His head turned sharply away from her, baring his throat.

Lucy drew back, memorizing the lean lines of his back and how he hunched over slightly to keep himself hidden from her. With a smirk, she returned to the pulley and raised his arms to their limit above his head, just high enough that he was propped up on his knees instead of sitting back on his heels. She knew that he was uncomfortable. What she'd done could only ease the pain in his shoulders for so long. If she could have trusted him, then the ropes would have been removed. But this one was stubborn.

She liked stubborn.

Lucy returned to her position behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He shifted away slightly, as far as he could manage. "Stop."

"But you need to understand," she rasped. "I need you." Her hands never strayed from his exposed chest and stomach. She traced every muscle, each of his ribs that were still healing from their fight. By the time one hand pushed beneath his pants, he was already fidgeting. His cock was heavy in her hand as he grew more aroused. Even though she knew he fought against it, there was no denying that his body enjoyed the things she did. "It seems the Gods favor this."

"Don't touch me," he hissed. Her lips locked onto his ear, and she grinned when he hardened in her grasp.

She stroked him slowly, just as she'd been instructed to do by the _seiðr_ in the temple. Those lessons she'd gotten from him would be useful now. It had taken her far too long to figure out how to please her captive the last time they were together. She'd spent the past week learning everything she could about how to bring this man around. She wanted him to want her. She needed it. Because she was running out of time to find a man to father the heir. Soon, it would be too late. And Lucy didn't want to think about what might happen to her kingdom if she ran out of time. Only the _seiðr_ could see the possible outcomes, and he was very adamant about not telling her a thing where that was concerned.

All she had to do was focus on what made her captive react. How his breathing changed when her fingers wrapped around him, tightened as she moved to the base. She could do this. She hadn't known what she was doing before, but now she did. Lucy could listen to him gasp and groan, how he quietly cursed and pulled on his restraints. She just needed to be confident. And now that she'd already touched him once, now that she knew what she was actually doing... This would be easier.

"Stop this." He moaned a moment later when her nails lightly scratched his chest.

What made him react the most strongly was when her tongue slipped out and glided up to the tip of his ear. His hips surged before he could stop himself. He pulled at the rope holding his hands above his head harder than before. "Now, now," she laughed. "Just enjoy this. Let me take care of you."

"I hate you," he panted. She loosened the ties on his pants and let them fall, then grasped his cock again. Lucy marveled at the feel of his heated flesh in her hand. How easily her palm slid over it, the moisture beading at the tip as it grew harder.

"Tell me your name," she rasped in his ear. He didn't speak, and she pumped him more insistently. "Tell me."

"N-Never."

She let go when she remembered what the _seiðr_ had told her. Moisture was the key to a man's pleasure. Lucy spit into her hand and wrapped it around his cock. His reaction was something she was sure he hadn't wanted her to witness. His head dropped back onto her shoulder and he thrust into her hand, a long moan barreling past his thinned lips. "That feels nice, doesn't it?" she asked. "Tell me your name."

"No!" He cried out when she tightened her grip on him and pumped harder than before. Her lips locked onto his ear again and the fingers on her free hand toyed with one nipple.

His harsh breaths and strangled moans filled the air, broken up by the wet sounds of her hand sliding over him faster and harder. She wanted to know what to call him. It was too impersonal if she didn't even know his name. She just wanted to be able to connect with him in some way. If she hadn't wanted a connection at all, then Lucy would have chosen someone like Laxus to father the heir. At least, with this man in her arms, she knew he was smart enough to survive in a battle. Laxus was all muscles and power. This man made her laugh, even without trying. "Tell-"

"Erik," he moaned. "My name is Erik… Just… Stop!"

Lucy hummed as her lips puckered on his earlobe. "Erik," she whispered. "A very strong name, just like you."

"Stop," he moaned. His hips twitched again, and his breath hissed between tightly clenched teeth. He pulled at the restraints when she nibbled on his ear, and Lucy grinned at how he seemed to be coming around. "Fuck... Stop, you crazy bitch!"

Her hand slowed and finally stopped, and she lightly massaged his thighs. "Are you sure you want me to stop?" she asked.

He nodded. Lucy frowned and drew back, swiping the moisture from her hand on his pants. She stood and walked around to stand in front of him. He was the picture of submission, tied up and kneeling on the floor, his weeping cock standing at attention, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing. His head fell forward, so she wasn't able to see the torment and anger sitting plainly on face.

" _If you want to torture him, get him to the cusp of his release. Stop before he can cum. And then leave. If he tells you to stop, keep going for a little while longer, then do as he wants. It'll confuse him. When you come back, he'll be begging you to help him. Might take a few days, but if you keep teasing him, then stopping, he'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."_

The _seiðr's_ words came crashing through her memory. That's right. Lucy wanted him to want her. She wanted Erik to beg her for what only she could give him.

She knelt in front of him and fixed his pants so they sat on his hips once more. When their eyes locked, he looked confused. Anger was definitely there, but he was mostly just confused by her actions. Just like the _seiðr_ had said. She didn't say a word, even when he cleared his throat and tried to speak to her. Lucy ignored it all. Once he was clothed, she looked up into his narrowed, suspicious eye, then leaned forward and pressed a single, gentle kiss to the center of his chest.

She left the room in silence after that. And as the door closed behind her, Lucy missed the way his brows furrowed while he stared at the place she'd kissed him.

* * *

He took the last bite of his stew and chewed the meat slowly. She brought a cloth to his lips and gently dabbed at them to wipe away any other remnants of his meal. His wrists ached from the rope that was always wrapped around them. He needed to get this shit off. And he knew that if she trusted him, he wouldn't have to be bound. But Erik also knew that he would jump at the chance to kill her for the things she'd done to him. She'd yet to have sex with him, but it was only a matter of time before she tied him down and did that as well.

She set down the empty bowl and looked at him in silence for a moment. He sat on the floor of his room, leaning against the wall with his arms taut above his head. "How are your shoulders?"

"Fine." His eye closed as she leaned closer and gently touched his shoulder. He didn't move away, but only because there was nowhere for him to go. She would just follow him anyway. Her fingers trailed up higher to his wrists and his hands clenched when the first touch had his skin burning.

"Have these been taken off of you at all?" Erik shook his head. She touched his chin, and he allowed her to turn his face toward her. Slowly, his eye opened and he found her frowning up at his hands. "Would you let me take you to the bed?" she asked.

"Fuck you," he spat. He didn't want to move to that bed. She _did_ things to him in that bed. Just a few days ago, she'd tied his legs down after stripping him completely, then kissed every inch of his body from his chin down to his feet. She was teasing him now, working him up to the point of breaking, then leaving his body begging for more. And all the while, the sane part of Erik hated her. And he hated himself for reacting to her.

"The ropes need to be moved," she said. "Your wrists are red." Her thumb brushed lightly over his reddened flesh, and he bit back a quiet hiss. But she must have noticed how his body tensed. "Just let me take care of you."

He wanted to tell her to fuck off, but his wrists did hurt. And he knew by now that she wouldn't actually hurt him. All she wanted was to use him for breeding, and the easiest way for her to do that was to keep him happy. Erik realized, as he glared at her, that he could ask for nearly anything - within reason - and she would give it to him. All he had to do was make her believe that he was trustworthy. "Fine," he finally muttered. "My wrists do hurt."

"And I can help you?" she asked. He looked away and nodded. He didn't want to see the triumphant gleam in her eyes as she used the pulley to lower his hands to his lap. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she untied the rope from his wrists.

His first instinct was to reach out and strangle her, but Erik held back. He didn't move once his hands were freed. He let her touch him this time. The Queen's touch was gentle, tender as she turned his wrists one way and another, but she noticed the way he flinched when her fingers brushed across the small scrapes the rope had left on him.

She stood and allowed him to stand on his own for the first time since he'd been captured. The guards gave him a small amount of space to walk around now that he was able to do it without stumbling. But this was the first time he wasn't bound since he'd healed.

She carefully took his hands in her smaller, paler ones, and led him to the bed. He sat on the edge and rolled out his wrists, then his shoulders. She walked toward the door and spoke with the guard standing just outside. When she returned to him, Erik didn't know what she was planning. There she stood, not wearing her armor again. Every time she visited him, she wasn't wearing armor. Did that mean she trusted him enough to still be vulnerable like this? Or was it just that she knew he had no means of killing her before a whole swarm of guards would be on him? He almost wondered what would happen if he did attack her right then. Would she finally have him killed? Would she tie him up again and torture him the way any slave would be, with a whip or flail or bloodletting? As he looked up at her, Erik knew the truth.

She would have him bound again, but she still wouldn't hurt him. No matter what he did to her, this Queen wouldn't have him killed or beaten. She would just continue with her plans, whether he was willing or not.

She took a slow step closer to him, almost unsure of whether she needed to be on guard. He wasn't going to attack her right then. Not when he was finally free from that damned rope.

Instead, Erik sat up a little straighter and his hands tightly gripped his thighs. This was it. She was going to do this while he wasn't bound, to test him. She was going to see if he would attack her while she forced herself on him. He should have attacked her right away. He knew that as she gently sifted her fingers through his hair. Warmth travelled down to his groin, bringing back the ache that he did everything in his power to ignore. Part of him wanted her, ached for her. He ignored it.

Her hands slid lower, cupping his cheeks for only a moment, then she began lightly rubbing away the tension in his neck. Down to his shoulders that he didn't want to admit were in pain from being in the same position for too long. She continued down one arm, working out every bit of pain, every tense and knotted muscle, until she reached his wrist. Then she did the same on the other arm. And through it all, the Queen was silent. He simply watched her as she lifted his hand and her thumbs pressed into the center of his palm. Erik hummed before he could stop himself. He hadn't realized how much his hands hurt.

He didn't know he was leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against something soft that smelled of sweet honey and a hint of leather. His eye opened to find her breast just next to his lips, her arms around him while she started massaging his shoulders and upper back once more.

Things could be worse than this. He knew that. The times that she was like this, before she forced her touch on him, he enjoyed as much as a prisoner could enjoy their captor's presence.

Erik knew that he had it easy. It was made even clearer when the door opened and she didn't move away from him. The servant that walked in was a woman with deep purple hair and bright green eyes. He'd seen her once or twice, but she didn't speak to him. She carried a tray with what he could only assume the Queen had asked for, bowed low, and got ready to leave.

"Stay," the Queen said. "Treat his wrists, but be gentle."

"I'm not a fucking child," he sneered. His words ended on a soft groan when her fingers pushed more insistently on a particularly tense area just beneath his skull.

"No," she laughed. "You're not a child, but I am busy right now. Kinana can treat you."

Erik sighed and let it happen. Kinana knelt on the floor by the bed and carefully cleaned his wrists, applied a salve to them, then wrapped bandages around them to keep them dry and safe from infection.

"Will that be all, my Queen?" Kinana asked, keeping her head bowed.

"Yes, that-"

"No," Erik said. The Queen jolted and looked down at him. He met her questioning gaze and smirked. "I'm not opposed to what you're doing right now, but it will be better if you have oil on your hands."

"Oil?" she asked softly. She turned to look at Kinana, as if questioning the truth of his words.

"Yes, my Queen," Kinana said. "I have seen them use scented oils for massages. They say different ingredients can help a person relax… and..." Her cheeks colored slightly. "Some can be used as an aphrodisiac."

She nodded and frowned for a moment. "Bring me some oil, then," the Queen said. "Just to help him relax."

Erik watched Kinana leave the room and the Queen's hands returned to his hair. She didn't pull him away from her chest. In fact, she took a small step closer to him, between his spread legs, so he could rest on her more easily. He didn't try to touch her. Erik ignored how his hands itched to move and rest on the backs of her thighs. He wasn't aware of her gentle smile down at him over how he hadn't pulled away.

* * *

Once a week, Lucy allowed him to be free of the ropes that kept him bound. Lucy came to him just after his second meal, and she untied him. She let him sit on his bed, and used the oils she brought with her to massage his shoulders and arms and back. He seemed to enjoy it.

After a month of this same pattern, she'd grown lax. Trusting of him. He never tried to attack her. He still shied away from her when she touched him, but he was always bound when she did that. She wanted to believe that he was coming around though.

As he laid there on the bed, and she sat beside him, finishing up his massage, Lucy wondered if he would push her away this time. He wasn't supposed to. The _seiðr_ had told her that he would come around. He'd accept her advances if she gave him enough pleasure. But Erik had been more stubborn than she'd originally anticipated. But she wanted to try.

"Roll onto your back," she said softly. He seemed relaxed enough, and he shifted to do as she'd said. Once she could look into his eye, her hands came up to rest on his chest. She carefully kneaded the muscles on his shoulders again, moved down to his chest and then beneath his arms. His soft sigh had her fighting back a smile. "Do you enjoy this?"

"I do," he said. "It feels nice."

Lucy bit her lip and let one hand slide lower. Her fingers brushed across the waistband of his loosely fastened pants. He didn't tense, and he didn't push her away. She grew wary when he slowly sat up, but he didn't say anything. He didn't look angry, as he sometimes did when she was pleasing him. His eye stayed focused on her hand, even as his own lifted and his fingers brushed across her wrist. Her cheeks flushed a gentle pink when she felt the strength in his hand as it skittered across her flesh.

Was he really accepting her? Well, he'd made her wait long enough. And she was so tired of being alone in her bed. She wanted him there with her, but Lucy had promised that he wouldn't be allowed to roam freely until she knew that Erik could be trusted.

But if he was going to touch her, if he would let her please him, then they could finally be together.

"Is this-"

"Shh," he whispered. He came closer and all she could see was the way his lips drew nearer. She'd held herself back from kissing him. Lucy wanted to more than anything, but she wanted to save that for when they were truly together. "You have no idea, how hard it's been to wait for this..."

"For what?"

He smirked and she could swear that her heart stopped beating for a moment. There was more life in him that day, more fire in his single eye as he gazed down at her. He really did have such a beautifully colored eye. She sometimes wished that she hadn't gouged out the other one when they'd been enemies. She gasped when he gripped her wrist hard enough to bruise, and his other hand shot up to wrap around her throat. Was this the sort of thing he found arousing? The _seiðr_ had told her that this was a possibility. She just had to play along with it.

"For you to be stupid enough to trust me," he chuckled. Her brows furrowed for only a moment, and then he squeezed her throat. He pushed her down onto the bed, towered over her, kept squeezing and squeezing until her head pounded. This wasn't what she'd been told about. This wasn't a little bit of foreplay to spice things up. He was trying to kill her.

Her fist sailed up into his ribs once, twice, three times before he seemed affected by it. She knew that he was larger than her, and he had the advantage of size as he crushed her beneath him. Lucy had to use everything in her arsenal to get away from him. So she drew her legs up and pushed at his hips. There wasn't enough space to kick him. It wasn't until she reached between them and tightly grabbed his genitals, then twisted, that he finally released her with a loud cry of pain.

Lucy rolled off the bed, grasping at her throat and coughing to ease the sudden burn of air sliding down and filling her chest. She whirled in place when he lunged for her.

"You stupid bitch," he snarled. He caught her in a grapple, and they rolled across the floor. She should have expected him to hit her. She hadn't. His fists pummelled her sides. He bloodied his knuckles on her face with three hits before she finally realized that he wasn't going to stop unless she made him. By that point, he'd pinned her to the ground. Lucy cried out when his hand wrapped around her face and he slammed her head against the stone floor.

Bright red spots burst in front of her eyes. She was barely aware of his fists coming down on her again and again. When her vision cleared a little, all she could see was the hatred burning in his eye. The pull of his upper lip that bared his teeth. His heaving breaths. But her hearing was distorted, muffled. So much that she didn't know someone had come to stop Erik from killing her until she saw him being ripped away from her and thrown off to her left, back toward the bed. Several muffled shouts drifted through the air, until she could finally make sense of the warbling world around her.

Lucy sat up slowly, and turned toward the bed. Laxus kicked Erik in the ribs and grabbed his maroon hair, dragging him up off the ground. "Stop," she whispered.

Laxus hit Erik again. Lucy groaned and pushed herself up onto her knees, wavering as a sudden bout of dizziness swept through her. The room tilted to the side, and she felt herself falling. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her up and letting her rest against an unfamiliar chest. The length of soft green hair in front of her eyes let her know who it was. He was never far from Laxus. Slowly, Freed helped her stand, bearing most of her weight.

"Stop," Lucy said again.

"Laxus," Freed said. "The Queen has ordered you to stop."

Laxus froze with his hand wrapped around Erik's throat. Lucy looked down at her captive, saw the pain in his eye and the split in his lip from Laxus attacking him. But Laxus was just defending her. She knew that. He was doing what any of her men would have done if they'd found her being beaten. She couldn't be angry with him over his treatment of Erik this time, but she also couldn't let it continue.

Her choice was made. Erik was the one. And now that her twenty and second naming day had passed, there was no going back. She had to have an heir with the man she'd chosen.

"Please allow me to kill this piece of shit," Laxus growled.

"You can't kill him," she rasped. Lucy tried to take a step forward, but she stumbled. When she looked into Erik's eye, he smirked at her.

"Why not?" Erik asked. "Haven't gotten your fill, you stupid whore?"

Lucy's jaw tightened as Laxus punched Erik in the jaw. Her gaze honed in on the bright splash of blood that he spit out onto the floor. "Freed, please tie him back up," she said. She looked up into his shocked emerald eyes, giving him a pained smile. "I can trust you to not be cruel to him, can't I?"

"Of course, my Queen," he said softly. "But you-"

"Laxus," she said, turning toward the hulking blond whose icy glare was still directed at Erik. "Take me to the temple."

She could see the way he hesitated. How he fought to control himself before finally pushing Erik to the floor. Lucy tried not to react to the soft groan she heard, instead focusing on Laxus' scarred face as he came closer. Freed's hold on her lessened and Laxus' arm wrapped around her shoulders, careful of the injuries he couldn't see. She waited until Freed had begun dragging Erik across the floor, then slowly turned toward the door. Her steps were slow, her breathing labored, but Laxus was there with her. He helped to guide her through the keep and down to the temple that sat beneath its foundation.

Laxus opened the door and carefully led her into their keep's temple. The room was spacious with large tapestries lining the walls, telling tales of the Gods that no one but the _seiðr_ could understand the complexities of. A plush purple rug stretched from the door to a large bed of pillows in the center of the room, surrounded by sheer fabric reaching down from the ceiling. "Sorcerer," Laxus called out. "The Queen needs you!"

A loud crash sounded from a room off to the right. "There he goes, breaking things again," she sighed as they walked along the carpet, closer to the pillows. She needed to rest, and she knew from experience that those pillows were constantly kept fluffed and plush. She didn't even mind that she would have to sit on the floor. The pillows would make up for it.

The _seiðr_ rushed out of the back room, his black robes billowing around him and his perpetually glowing green eyes drawing their attention. "Sorry!" he shouted, laughing when he nearly tripped over his robes. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the state of his hair. The deep blue locks were never hanging down over his forehead. His hair wasn't wet that she could see, so he hadn't just bathed.

"What were you doing?" she asked.

"Just-" A silver-haired woman stumbled out of the room, pulling quickly at her dress to keep her breasts covered. Her bright blue eyes widened in horror when she saw the Queen standing before her, staring at her, taking in her short hair and pinched waist. "So, this is Lisanna," the _seiðr_ said. "And she came to ask for, uh... guidance?"

Lucy sighed when the woman bowed low and then rushed out of the room through a hidden staircase. "Really, Bickslow?"

He gave her a wide grin with his tongue lolling from his mouth. Finally, he smoothed his hair back away from his face, forcing it up at odd angles that always gave him an air of mystery. Or lunacy. She wasn't sure most times.

"Well, if you're done using your freaky sex magic on commoners," Laxus sneered, "Your Queen needs your help."

"Laxus, enough," she hissed.

He ignored her, leading her further into the room and right up to Bickslow. "That mongrel she brought up from the south tried to kill her. He's lucky I value my Queen's order, or he'd be dead."

"That's enough!" she shouted, glaring up at him. "You may leave, Laxus. Get back to your post."

His jaw tightened as he glared back down at her. It only lasted for a moment before he remembered his place, and nodded. He bowed and stormed out of the temple, leaving her alone with Bickslow.

"He hurt you?"

Lucy's eyes slid closed at the saddened tone of his voice. His hands, so soft and warm, rested tenderly on her shoulders. "I was stupid," she said. "I thought..." When she looked up into his glowing eyes, she knew he saw the truth. There was never any chance of hiding things from Bickslow. She'd thought she could trust Erik, that he'd started coming around. She'd hoped that he wouldn't push her away this time. "I-I thought he..."

Bickslow drew her into a comforting embrace when the first of her tears spilled down her cheeks. She collapsed against him, letting him bear her slight weight in his arms. Of all the people in her kingdom, this was the one place she could truly relax. She didn't have to be the Great Northern Queen here. Not with him. It wasn't because of his magic, or that he could see into her soul with just a look. It wasn't even because he was the _seiðr_ , a seer for their kingdom.

"Why doesn't he w-want me?" she sobbed. "I've done everything I can to... to please him, and..."

"We just have to give him time, big sister," Bickslow sighed. He curled around her a little more and his fingers sifted through her hair. He drew back a moment later when he felt something wet and warm on the back of her head. "Shit, he really hurt you!"

She let him lead her to the pillows in the center of the room, let him carefully sit her down. Lucy watched with an odd sort of detachment as he bustled around outside of the canopy gathering herbs and a pestle and mortar. He ground the herbs together and tore several lengths of cloth to act as bandages. By the time he returned, her tears had slowed. Still, letting herself finally open up and feel the pain in her heart just from being in her younger brother's presence, meant that she couldn't ignore it anymore. She'd tried to not let Erik's refusal affect her. She'd tried to be a strong, domineering queen who took what she wanted.

"Just relax and let me help you, okay?" he whispered as he knelt beside her with a tray full of bowls and cloth. She nodded, letting him move her one way and another. She stayed silent as he cleaned the back of her head, wiped away the blood dripping down from the corner of her lips and her nose. He wrapped bandages around her head, then gently touched the reddened marks on her throat and wrist. "I don't understand, Lucy. He's the one for you. I've seen it."

"Maybe your magic is failing," she sniffled.

His hands cupped her cheeks, forcing her to meet his glowing gaze. "If my magic was failing, then I wouldn't look like this," he said. She knew it was true. His eyes would be that beautiful crimson color he'd been born with, that he'd grown up having until he turned nine. They wouldn't still glow with the magic of _Urðr_. She wouldn't get a glimpse of the Well of Destiny in his eyes if the magic in him was disappearing.

"You weren't supposed to have it."

He smiled gently and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Well, next time there's some ancient staff that'll give my big sister magic when she's ready to have the heir, I'll keep my hands off of it," he laughed. She couldn't help but laugh with him just a little. "I was stupid."

"You really were." He'd been such a rebellious child. And when he'd found out that the staff kept in the throne room would give his older sister magic, he'd wanted it for himself. Bickslow's unconscious body had been found at the base of the throne by their mother. When he'd opened his eyes, and she'd seen what had happened to him, things had never been the same.

"Do you ever wish you'd left the staff alone?" she asked. "That you'd been able to fight like everyone else?"

"Sometimes," he chuckled. "But not so I could fight. You know I've never really liked fighting. I'm a lover."

"You're a pervert, is what you are," she giggled. "That magic of yours has only made it worse."

"Hey, now," he laughed. "Lisanna came to me for help. She's had trouble conceiving with her husband." At her raised brow, he laughed harder. "You know I don't have sex with them myself! I have... instruments."

"You're so gross. You and your gross _sex magic_..."

"But it's helped you," he said, sobering after a moment. "Me being like this, seeing what I see... You wouldn't have known that you'd find him there, and that you needed to raid that village, if it wasn't for me."

"And it's done me no good in that respect," she muttered. "If we're destined to be together, then why does he fight me?"

"Destiny doesn't work that way," he said softly. Bickslow set his herbs off to the side and pulled her closer, between his spread legs so she could rest fully against him. His arms wound around her smaller frame as he leaned back against the plush pillows surrounding them. "You know that."

"I still don't understand," she whispered.

"What I see, what we call our destiny, is malleable," he said. "Who you are and the things you've done, make you into this Lucy. And when I looked to see where your path was leading you, I saw him. But just by telling you to find him, I've changed things. Every bit of advice that I give you, changes things. Our destinies aren't written and final. Our decisions now can alter the path we take."

"So then it's not really destiny?"

"It is," he chuckled softly. "It's just... we can change the course of things by remembering our past and moving forward with that in mind."

"Then tell me," she said softly. "How can I... How will he finally love me?"

Bickslow's eyes closed for a moment, and she waited for him to speak. The silence stretched onward so long that she began to worry there was no way to get what she'd wanted. But he always had answers for her. When she'd come to her younger brother, asking for help to learn how to please Erik, he'd helped her. When she was preparing for a raid and needed to know which direction to take, he was there. He was the reason she'd been able to conquer so much in the time she'd been queen. He'd never failed her before.

Finally, Bickslow's eyes opened and he looked down at her. His smile gave her the smallest bit of hope. "He'll fall in love with you, as long as he's able to see _you._ Let him see past the Northern Queen. It'll hurt, opening yourself up to him, but the pain will be worth it in the end."

* * *

Erik groaned in his sleep, shuffling only as much as the restraints keeping him prone on the bed would allow. Behind his closed eye, he dreamt of the Queen. It wasn't about what she did to him, how her fingers felt while exploring his body. Her lips as she kissed and suckled at his tender flesh. He walked along a dim corridor lined with braziers in the dead of night, pausing at a single open door. Erik slipped inside and took in the spacious room with its fur rugs and the large bed against the far wall. His surroundings faded while he moved toward a soft, sad sound coming from the bed. He stared down at her curled up form. Her hair was loose around her, pulled from the braid he'd seen her in earlier that day when she came to feed him. A long red gown clung to her body as she curled around a pillow in the center of the bed.

Erik wanted to leave. He didn't want to see her like this. He didn't want to see her at all. But then she whimpered, she curled in further on the pillow in her grasp. She brought a hand up and wiped at her closed eyes, and his jaw dropped when he saw the proof of her torment in glistening droplets on her cheeks. What did she have to be upset about? Why was he seeing her like this?

Why did he have to see her in this bed that was too large for her, that made her look so much smaller than she was?

Footsteps drew Erik's attention, and he turned to see a tall man with blue hair sticking up in a disheveled mohawk and brightly glowing green eyes make his way into the room. Right to the bed. The man crawled onto it, closer to her. Erik didn't want to know why his gut twisted and burned when her head lifted. Like a child running from a thunderstorm, she scrambled over to the man and launched herself into his arms with a desperate, heart-rending sob. He collapsed back onto the bed and held her gently. His hands moved in slow circles over her back and shoulders.

 _"It's okay,"_ the man whispered. His voice hovered around him in a thick, miasmic cloud. _"Please don't cry over him."_

Erik couldn't hear what she said in response. He saw her lips move, but the only sound that came from her was a pitiful cry that shook something deep inside him. He couldn't find it in himself to look away from her. Why couldn't he look away? Why did she have to keep crying like this? Why did he have to feel something when he saw how she trembled in another man's arms? When he found the will to tear his gaze away from the crying Queen, Erik was looking right into those terrifying green eyes that glared right back at him. The man could see him. He wasn't sure how it was possible, but he knew it to be true.

"This is all your fault," the man said to him.

Erik woke up, gasping for air. He struggled against his restraints on the bed, tried to bite through the gag that had been shoved in his mouth by one of the guards before he'd been left to fall asleep. He couldn't calm his racing heart. He could still hear that man's voice in his ears, in the air around him. Piercing through him just as intensely as those glowing eyes had. It terrified him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't stop thinking about it. About her.

The tears she'd shed, the torment written so plainly on her face. The sadness that reached down into his chest and squeezed his lungs.

He hated that seeing this part of her was hurting him. Erik hated that there was a part of him, wishing he wasn't bound to this bed solely so he could find her and wipe the tears away himself.

* * *

Erik was lying on the bed with his arms stretched out to the sides and bound to something he couldn't see when the door opened again. It was nearing the time he would eat, based on how hungry he was, so he could only assume _she_ was coming. Just as she had been for the past six months. Every day, she came in during his meals and fed him. She refused to untie him so he could feed himself, and he'd been told that she refused to lock him in the dungeon with the other slaves.

She'd stopped giving him a few hours without the ropes around his wrists. Ever since he'd attacked her that day, she was never around when he was moved from the wall to the bed. The guards that handled him weren't as gentle as she'd been. They simply move the ropes to his elbows and bound him again until the redness in his wrists went away. Then they switched the ropes back to his wrists. She did still come in and massage him, but it was different than before.

According to one of the guards, a man with long green hair named Freed - Erik assumed one of the women he'd killed in his last battle was this man's relative, their hair was such a distinctly similar shade - had told him that the Queen was being unnecessarily kind to him, even as he rejected her on a daily basis. He remembered Freed being one of the guards who had come in to stop him the day he'd attacked the Queen. Erik hadn't gotten another chance to do it.

Apparently, everyone was aware of what she was doing to him. Touching him. Kissing every inch of his body, but never his lips. Violating him even when he told her to stop. None of them cared, because she was their queen. They turned a blind eye to what he was forced to endure.

He turned to watch her walk into the room, and frowned when he saw someone he didn't recognize right away. A tall man with hair a few shades darker than hers and a lightning-shaped scar over one eye. His icy blue eyes glared down at Erik as he closed the door. Instantly, the room charged with tension. Erik couldn't move. He couldn't fight back against this man he didn't know. It had nothing to do with being afraid - he'd fought men just as large as this man. It had everything to do with the ropes that held him down to the bed.

The man sneered down at Erik and stalked further into the room, towered over him. "What does she see in you?"

"It seems-" The man lunged forward and wrapped a hand around Erik's throat, silencing his answer.

"She should have chosen me," the man hissed. His fist went sailing down at Erik's face, and connected with a sickening crunch. Erik was just thankful that he had pants on. This would have been much more unpleasant if he'd been naked. But that single hit reminded him of who this man was. Laxus, the one who'd been ready to kill him for hurting the Queen. The one who'd come into this room before, in the middle of the night, and choked him until he lost consciousness once before.

His eye rounded as Laxus literally tore him from the bed, breaking the ropes in the process, and threw him into the opposite wall. He'd completely recovered from the day the Queen had taken him captive, but that single jarring blow had knocked the air from his lungs so forcefully that he couldn't pull any back in once he landed on the ground in a limp heap.

"Pathetic," Laxus said. "Stand up and fight. Prove you're worth what she claims you are."

Erik wheezed as a boot came crashing down on his back, pushing him into the stone floor. The guards always made sure there was nothing lying around for him to use as a weapon. This room was kept with only the essentials. A bed for him to lie in when they let him. Ropes to tie him down. There were no bowls or utensils from his previous meal - those were always taken away when he was finished. His own armor and weapons had disappeared when he'd been captured. They'd made doubly sure he couldn't try to kill her again, even though he'd only used his hands in his last attempt.

He barely had enough time to roll to the side when Laxus' boot came down again with enough force to snap his spine like a twig.

"What would make her choose some mongrel like you, when she could have me?" he growled. He drew his sword and slashed at Erik twice in quick succession, catching him one time on the back of his thigh as he rolled away again.

Erik had no time to stand. He didn't have the energy to fight back against someone who was at the peak of his physical strength. He crawled across the floor, narrowly avoiding the next strike of Laxus' sword. Metal clanged violently on stone, and Erik celebrated his victory for only a moment before he was kicked again, this time in the head.

His vision darkened for too long. That much he was sure of as he felt his body being rolled over.

"If she thinks you're worthy of her time, then I'll prove her wrong." He stepped on Erik's chest and held him down. Slowly, so painfully slowly, he dug the tip of his sword into Erik's shoulder. "Don't scream. Only children scream."

Erik refused to give in, even as the sword pierced his flesh, tore through muscle and separated bones. He nearly bit off his tongue in his effort not to cry out in agony. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Even if he never wanted to be the Queen's choice, he was. And he still had enough dignity left in him to deny this bastard the satisfaction he sought. Laxus sneered again and gave the sword a final push with enough force that the tip planted itself in the stone beneath Erik. Voices outside the room caught their attention, and his back stiffened. He left the sword there, pinning Erik to the floor, and ran out of the room.

The voices came closer, then drifted away as Erik laid on the floor. He tried to catch his breath, to fight against the pain that had returned all across his chest. Even worse was his shoulder. He couldn't tell if he'd ever be able to use his arm again. Normally, injuries like this spelled death for a warrior. But his attacker had left before he could finish what he clearly came to do. And Erik couldn't let himself be killed. What if Laxus came back? What if someone else came and finished the job for him? His hands shook as he wrapped them around the blade. If he could just pull it out, then he could find some way to prepare for another attack.

"His door shouldn't be open." The confusion in her voice was a welcome distraction as the blade sliced through his palms. Still, he pulled to no avail. She ran to the door, and he heard a bowl slip from her fingers and crash to the floor. "Erik!"

Moments later, she was there above him. Her hands rested on his cheeks and brushed his hair away from his eye. Her gaze was both worried and furious. He'd never seen such a combination before. But it was there. Right there as she looked at him.

"What happened?" she demanded as his eye slid closed and his bloody hands fell away from the blade. "Who did this to you?"

"Get this… fucking sword out of me…" If the sword was gone, maybe it would hurt less. And then he could deal with this himself. "I-"

"Tell me who hurt you!" she bellowed. Erik's full attention snapped up to her. The worry was gone. Pure, unadulterated fury lurked in her pinched brows and burning gaze.

"My Queen," came a teasing, masculine voice from the doorway. Erik didn't turn to look at whoever it was. He knew it wasn't the man who'd attacked him. "He'll probably be more willing to talk if he's not skewered like a pig."

She turned to glare at the speaker over her shoulder, giving Erik a quick glimpse of a man with bright blue hair and glowing green eyes. "Who the fuck…" he muttered. His eye widened after a moment. The man from his dream. The one who'd been holding her as she cried. Who'd blamed him for her tears. He couldn't be real. Though he'd had that dream more than three months ago, Erik would never forget those eyes.

She sighed and stood, then placed her foot on Erik's chest as she grabbed the sword's hilt. He didn't have time to prepare himself for the sudden tearing sensation that ripped its way through his shoulder. The sword clattered to the ground, and she was there once again, kneeling beside him. Hovering over him. "Now tell me what happened," she said. There was no room for argument in her tone.

At that point, he didn't want to argue with her. He wanted the pain to stop. So, Erik explained what had happened. It was brief, but by the look in her eyes, she knew who had attacked him. Just to be sure, he rasped, "Laxus... with the scar... wants me dead."

She turned to the man who was still standing in the doorway. "Bickslow, see to his injuries. Have him moved to my chambers, and stay with him until I return."

"Whoa, where are you going?" Bickslow asked. She stood and stormed over to him, and he blocked her path. Erik watched in silence, his gaze honing in on how tightly she gripped the sword he hadn't realized she'd picked up while her head tilted back to keep her gaze trained on Bickslow's face.

"Laxus tried to kill him," she said. "He's mad about the choice I made, but-"

"Exactly," Bickslow said quickly. "He's just mad. Talk to him, sort it out, but you don't need to kill him! If he doesn't want to believe you, then I'll talk to him!"

"I've made my choice!" she bellowed. "It's Erik! The only way you'll get an heir out of me is if it's with him!"

"Looks like you'll never get that heir," Erik groaned from where he laid on the floor. He figured it was probably best not to move, what with all the bleeding he was doing. "I'll never be with you."

What he'd expected was for her to snap at him. From the tension rising in her shoulders, it seemed like that was exactly what was about to happen. But then Bickslow glared at him and stepped aside to allow her to pass. She didn't even look back at him as she rushed out of the room. Once they were alone, Bickslow closed the door and moved to kneel beside Erik. He finally got a good look at the man. His glowing green eyes, the grim set to his wide lips. Heavy black robes were draped over his large frame with a sigil embroidered in the center of his chest. A staff with sunlight streaming from behind it.

It took far longer than Erik would have liked to recognize that sigil.

"You're a _seiðr_ ," he whispered in awe.

"I am," Bickslow said as he pulled a vial from somewhere inside his robes. He lifted the stopper and poured three drops of clear liquid onto Erik's shoulder.

"And you serve _her_?" Erik asked incredulously. How could someone like her have such a powerful sorcerer serving her? Was this why she'd won so many battles? Because she had a man who could quite literally see into the Well of Destiny and alter the outcome?

Bickslow's lips twitched for a moment, but he said nothing. Instead, his fingers dug into Erik's shoulder and sent white-hot fire washing through his veins. He drew a wide berth in the wound. Erik finally lost the will to keep his pain silent, and screamed behind tightly clamped lips. Eventually, Bickslow withdrew his fingers and rubbed his thumb over the blood on his fingertips.

His eyes narrowed, and he looked back at Erik. "She says your ears aren't normal. Pointed, right?"

"Yeah," he groaned. "Why does it fucking matter?"

Bickslow grabbed his chin gently, turned Erik to face him fully. When their eyes locked, Erik fell headlong into the spinning vortices in those glowing irises. The world around him faded into shades of green and red clouds that wrapped around his entire being. More than his body or some sort of mind control. The very depths of his soul felt the warm embrace of foreign, heavenly, world-shattering magic.

" _Open your soul to me, Erik."_ Bickslow's voice echoed around him. It slithered through his pores and reached into the very depths of his being. " _Let me see the truth."_

He wanted to do just that. He wanted more than anything to let this magician in, to see the darkest parts of his soul and lay them bare.

" _Why do you fear her?"_

He couldn't deny it any longer. Not like this. Those red and green clouds danced around him, taking the shape of his one, precious memory.

His mother laying him down for bed, the smile on her pale face as she kissed him. The pointed tip of her ear when she turned to look out the window. Her slender fingers drifting up to touch a necklace that was far beyond their means, but was somehow never stolen. The ivory waves of her hair were the strongest, clearest part of the memory. And her eyes. Such a vibrant purple, like gemstones sitting beneath crystalline water.

" _This is your destiny. Don't you see that? Lucy is your destiny."_

Lucy… Was that the Queen's name? She'd never told him, and none of the guards he interacted with would have dared to say her given name.

" _You've been given the name of an eternal ruler. You were meant to rule with her."_

Erik wanted to believe that. But he was nothing. He was no one. His own mother had left him shortly after his father was killed in battle. She'd left him to fend for himself, to live or die based only on the skills he'd learned in the first four years of his life.

He couldn't be anything to Lucy.

" _You crave her. I see it. You wait for her to come to you."_

How could he not wait for her? There was nothing else for him to do. But he could admit, at least in this fathomless, timeless space… part of him did crave her attention. Her touch. Her soft words and the way her lips curled just so at the corners when she smiled.

He wanted to feel her hands exploring him again. It had been so long already. He'd considered giving in just that morning, just so he could finally get the relief she kept denying him. He'd given in to temptation once before. He hadn't fought her touch, her lips that kissed and licked and sucked at his quivering, sweaty flesh. He'd watched her kneel in front of him, take him into her mouth, and he'd encouraged her by rocking his hips. Moaning as her cheeks hollowed and her tongue teased his swollen tip. He'd begged her for release, begged and pleaded with her to finally allow him that one small mercy.

 _Please... please let me cum. I need it... Oh, please... I need it so badly,_ he'd begged her. When she'd finally relented, he'd filled her mouth with his seed, a roar of completion tearing its way up his throat. She'd swallowed everything, kissed her way up his chest and held him when his legs trembled to the point of his feet no longer keeping him upright.

But he pulled back from those thoughts, shunned them so vehemently that it was nearly painful to think about in that moment. He didn't want her. Not like this. He wanted to choose this for himself.

But if it was his destiny…

She could have so easily taken what she wanted from him. He'd been incapacitated and helpless to stop her.

He thought back to the second time she'd touched him. He'd given her his name, and then she stopped. He'd told her to stop, and she had. She'd left him alone. That night, as he'd knelt on the floor, hating the way his body reacted to her touch, there had been the strangest pang of loneliness in his chest. Because she'd left him there.

" _So why do you hurt her like this?"_

He couldn't hurt her. Erik knew that. He'd been lucky to cut her with his sword that day. He'd been lucky that she'd let her guard down when he wasn't bound. It had been a fluke. How could-

" _Do you think she feels nothing? She's found in you what she's always searched for. She's learned how to please you, only for your sake. Lucy swallowed her pride and begged for help. She comes to me in tears, because of you. Because she can feel the truth, but you turn her away. You deny her… You taunt her. Do you truly think that doesn't affect her?"_

Erik wanted to yell that he was the one whose feelings should be taken into consideration. He was the one being taken advantage of. He was the one she touched without permission. He didn't want her.

" _Stop lying to yourself."_

He wasn't lying. Yes, part of him craved her, desired her, but that didn't have to control him. He didn't want his destiny decided for him.

" _Your fate was decided before you were born… Son of Freyja."_

The billowing clouds turned to ashes and beat down on Erik's head and back and shoulders. From every angle, he was assaulted by terrifying screams, wind whipping through his hair, the harsh sting of ashes and soot and small stones.

His eye snapped open, revealing an unfamiliar, night-dark room. Soft breathing to his left drew his attention. The muscles in his right shoulder screamed as his head turned, but everything melted away when he saw her there. Sleep had softened her features even further. She laid next to him, dead to the world. Her lashes rested so delicately on her cheeks. Her pale pink lips were parted just barely. Her hair was loose and tangled around her shoulders and across her pillow.

Her breaths were even and slow. Had she really fallen asleep beside him? So close to him? When Erik tested his wrists and feet, he felt nothing holding him down. Was she really trusting him to lie beside her, when she was so vulnerable?

This woman must have lost her mind. He'd tried to kill her once already. Did she think he wouldn't try again?

Erik knew he was in the right, denying that the pull he felt for her deep in his chest meant he should give in to her. He didn't want to be with her, and no one would change his mind on the matter. No one, but himself, he supposed.

Because he knew that if he did convince himself to roll over, to take her right here, she wouldn't deny him. He would be welcomed with open arms.

He couldn't deny that he felt something. He'd just assumed it was a physical attraction, a reaction to the touches she'd forced on him over and over again over the past few months. His body had grown accustomed to it, accepted that her presence meant that he would be touched, teased. Denied, repeatedly. His traitorous body thrummed with desire when she entered the room. It took all of his willpower to fight back that reaction every time she was near him.

But coming from that place that wasn't a place - he was sure that _seiðr_ had used some sort of magic on him - Erik could no longer deny that it was more than a physical attraction. He'd memorized her face. Not just the way she looked, but the small movements her lips made when she tried not to smile. How she always tucked her hair behind one ear just before bringing the first bite of food to his lips. He'd memorized the softness of her fingers, the calluses on her knuckles. The soft brush of her lips over his throat. And her smile. How she turned away from him just slightly when she smiled, as though she didn't want him to know that he'd done something to bring that out of her.

Erik tested his chest with a full, deep breath. He was still sore, but the pain wasn't nearly as unbearable as it had been before. His leg barely registered any pain at all. Slowly, he rolled toward her and looked at his shoulder that had been used as a scabbard for Laxus' sword. There was still a bandage wrapped around it, but it didn't hurt as much as it should have. What had that sorcerer done to him?

It didn't matter, he supposed. If he didn't have to deal with pain, then he was all for it.

His hand lifted and gently brushed a lock of her golden hair from her face. It was so soft between his fingers. He'd never had the opportunity to touch her before. That was a lie. He'd had plenty of chances to touch her just like this. Any time he wanted, he could have given in to his desire and taken her.

He'd never really wanted to touch her most times. Not when she started tormenting him. But before that, when she sat with him, talked with him… On occasion, he'd found himself wondering what it would be like to be this close to her, to feel her skin under his hands instead of being bound and unable to move.

How easily he ignored those thoughts when it suited him. He'd pushed them away so often that they became nothing more than background noise to tune out.

Not now.

"Lucy." Erik didn't know what made him speak. Why he'd whispered her name into the still, chilly air. Why such a large part of him hoped that she would hear him and wake up. Why he wanted to see what she looked like when she was tired. She shifted in her sleep and he felt her foot barely brush against his. His fingers still toyed with that lock of her hair, twirling it carefully so he didn't pull it. He realized that it was shorter than the rest of her hair, and Erik smiled. This was where he'd cut her hair when they'd first fought. When he'd been able to slash at her arm with his sword, resulting in a scar that she still had. "Lucy…"

She hummed in a way that was wholly undignified, a gruff sort of sound in the back of her throat. Erik had to bite back his own laughter. He'd never seen this side of her before. He tucked her hair behind her ear, and his fingers lightly traced the gentle curve of her cheek. Finally, her eyes slid open. A smile lifted her lips unbidden and she blinked before realizing just what she was doing. And who was touching her.

"You're awake," she said. The way her voice rasped, so thick with sleep, had him shifting a little closer to the warmth of her body.

"I am," he said. "And I'm in your bed."

"It's the safest place for you," she yawned. Her eyes closed in a long blink and she snuggled into her pillow a little more. "No one would dare come after you here. Not after what I did to Laxus."

"What did you do?"

She smiled again and sighed. With just that single breath, he breathed her in. Even now, she smelled of sweet honey and leather. "Public execution. Attempted murder of my future husband. I swung the blade myself. His own sword."

His brows furrowed as he looked at her. "You killed him, for hurting me?" he asked.

"For trying to kill you," she said. Lucy rolled onto her back and rubbed the heel of her hand over her eyes. "He confessed when I cornered him in the courtyard. He also told me that he's beaten you at night."

"And how did you corner him?" Erik asked, propping his head on one hand to look down at her. "He's easily twice your size."

Lucy snorted and turned her head toward him, sending him a devious little smirk that was much more like the woman he knew. "I'm the queen," she said. "And the women in my family are always this size. We've had to learn how to rule over those who dwarf us."

He took that as her refusing to divulge her secrets. Maybe she still didn't trust him. "How would you corner me?" he asked.

She rolled back toward him. Her hand rested on his bare chest and glided higher to the column of his throat. "Well, with you, I'd…" She frowned after a moment and pulled her hand away.

He didn't want her to. That simple touch, so innocent compared to the things she'd done to him already, was a soothing balm on the deep fissures in his soul. Why did he have to turn her away, when she so openly offered him the affection he'd been denied since he was a child? Erik snatched her hand from the small space between them, pressing it tightly to his chest. He ignored the surprise suddenly coloring her features, and closed his eye to soak up the feel of her soft skin brushing over him. He laced his fingers with hers and dragged her hand higher toward his throat where she'd stopped. Higher still to his jaw. The scar that bisected his right eye. For once, he let himself feel. He didn't shut down when she touched him. He directed her, forced her to touch the places _he_ wanted.

"Erik, what are you doing?"

His lips lifted into a small smirk. When his eye opened again, he found her much closer than before. Had she moved? No. No, he knew she hadn't moved at all. He'd done this. He'd brought himself close enough to feel her breath warming his lips, her nose nudging his own. He waited though. He wanted to know what she would do with him this close. Would she make a move again? Would she try to close this small distance between them and kiss him where her lips had never ventured? But she still didn't move, even as he pressed her hand firmly against his scarred cheek and his fingers slid up the length of her arm. He paused to finally feel the scar his sword had left on her. Lucy gasped when his hand curled around her waist beneath the heavy fur blanket, drawing her tightly to his chest.

"How would you corner me?" he asked again. "Tell me… Lucy."

" _Open your soul, Erik…"_ Bickslow's voice drifted through him, almost as nothing more than a distant memory.

Her breath stuttered against his lips as his hand slid up the length of her spine. He soaked in the soft fabric of her dress, then the bare skin between her shoulders. She was so soft, supple and tender in all the right places.

"I-I'd… Well, I…"

He felt it then. The sudden longing that reached down into his soul from hers. Was this what Bickslow had talked about? Was this his doing in some way? Had that _seiðr_ used his magic to force the two of them closer together? Whatever the reason, Erik felt it. Her needs, her desires, the passion that simmered beneath the surface and exploded when she was close enough to touch him. How tightly she held herself back. And then, a single memory of her and Bickslow speaking over Erik's unconscious body.

" _We made a mistake. Let him come to you, Lucy. I had you push him too hard, and if you push anymore, where he's at right now, you'll lose him forever. You'll never have what you want."_

" _I just want him to love me…"_

" _I know, big sister… And he will, but only if you give him the chance to find it himself. You've done what you can to show him how you feel. He has to do the rest."_

"You have me cornered right now," Erik said. "Won't you take what you want?"

Lucy shook her head, and she tried to speak only for her words to die in her throat when he leaned down and finally brought their lips together. Erik inhaled sharply through his nose at the first touch that sent a spark of desire zipping right down to his groin. It worsened the longer he kissed her, but he couldn't stop. He didn't dare now that he had this in his grasp. He breathed in her essence in that single kiss, just this one moment that seemed to stretch on infinitely. Not just forward or backward, but in every direction, all at the same time.

He lost himself in her kiss, in the feel of her supple thigh under his fingertips. Her breasts as he tore at her dress, the way her nipples pebbled in the air and how it felt to have his tongue circling them. Erik never wanted to leave the comfort of her embrace, and he realized, as she dragged him away from her chest and her tongue barely brushed across his lower lip in search of something more, he didn't have to let her go. He could be with her just like this, just like she'd promised. He didn't have to deny himself the things his body so desperately craved. Because while he'd been no one of real importance back in the south, he was her everything. He didn't want the honor or glory of being a general or a king.

He wanted her. Just her. But he didn't want the Northern Queen.

No, he wanted Lucy. This woman who mewled with delight at the way his tongue teased her quivering flesh. He wanted the woman who always tucked her hair behind her ear before she fed him. Whose nose scrunched when she found something distasteful and didn't feel the need to hide the reaction. Most of all, he wanted the deep pools of honey staring up at him in that moment, to always look at him like this. Like he was the only one who mattered.

Slowly he kissed up the center of her chest and paused at her lips. "I accept your offer," he rasped.

* * *

Lucy laid in their marriage bed of more than ten years, smiling as his arm wrapped carefully around her swollen belly. His lips puckered on her sweat-sicked shoulder on a lazy, meandering path up to her ear while they caught their breath.

"Do you remember," he chuckled, nipping at the lobe, "How shy you were the first time?"

"You can hardly blame me," she laughed. "We had to do it in front of my younger brother."

"Well, it was the only way to make sure you would be pregnant," he chuckled. "And if he hadn't been there, you never would have gotten your powers."

She smiled into the soft kiss he planted on her lips. Erik had been more than alarmed when she'd told him what had to happen. Their first time together had been in the temple, in the center of those pillows Bickslow usually slept on, two days after she'd executed Laxus. Bickslow had been there as a witness, having directed them to lie down on a large sigil he'd drawn on the floor. They'd had to ignore his glowing green eyes watching their every move while Erik finally took her virginity. But that was how things were done. If he hadn't been there, then he couldn't have seen whether they would have an heir soon. But he had been there, and he'd seen the way destiny's waters had washed around her and Erik once they were joined. He'd been able to witness the moment his niece was conceived in this world, and in the world only he could see.

And once they were done, before she could pull any clothing back on to cover herself, Bickslow had brought her the staff that had given her the magic she now possessed. Just a single touch had bound her to the keep until the end of days. Her time spent raiding Muspelheim with her armies was done. But she'd known that's what would happen. She'd forgotten to tell Erik about it at the time, though.

He'd been shocked by the surge of power in the room, the way her eyes had glowed a brilliant gold as the magic passed down in her family filled her entire being. Bickslow had been the one to explain it to him while she writhed and screamed on the ground. He'd also told Erik that his own _seiðr_ magic had come from the staff - because he'd been a wily child who refused to listen when he'd been told never to touch it. Bickslow's powers had been both a blessing and a curse for him, just as Lucy's were. Just as they would be for the next heir when the time came.

The day she died, the staff would be placed in her hands again to draw the magic back out of her, so it could be passed on to their first daughter.

Erik's fingers drawing slow circles over her belly pulled Lucy back to the present. "I love you, Lucy," he said.

"And I love you," she sighed. It had taken so long for her to hear him say those words to her. The way she'd acted when he'd been captured had made it hard for him to trust her. Some days, she still wondered just what it had been that changed his mind. Just as she wondered why his ears were pointed. He'd still yet to tell her about that, but she trusted him. Bickslow knew the answer, but he'd said it wasn't anything she had to worry about. What mattered was that they were together. She'd forged this destiny, and Erik had helped her do it. And nothing would tear them apart.

 _ **.The End…**_

… _**For now?**_

* * *

 **So, I briefly mentioned that there was supposed to be more to this one.  
** There was a whole thing about the staff that gives Lucy her magic. I was planning on writing out the scene of her actually _getting_ her magic, but then... time constraints. And that was, like, half of the original thought I'd had going into this prompt.

 **The other half was a sort of role-reversal scenario.  
** We see time and time again, stories about a woman being taken away from her home to marry a king or prince or whatever (like my _Frost Prince_ story in CoLu Week 2017). It's very rare to see a man being whisked away to marry a princess or queen. On top of that, there's an abundance of stories about the men being dominant and doing some serious non-con/dub-con/mind-break shit... Not a whole of the other way around, with the woman being the abuser. I toned this one back just a little bit, and didn't have Lucy actually rape Cobra with full-on sex, but that doesn't mean the things she did was right (obviously). I make no apologies for her actions in this story. It was not consensual until Cobra made the decision to move forward. Whether he was influenced by anything is up to you. I'm leaving it as is, unless...

 **Unless I decide to make this into a full-length story as well.  
** It would obviously be a darker story, what with the non-con theme. There were a lot of ideas that I had that just couldn't fit into my self-imposed "No going over 20k for CoLu Week" rule this year. Whether it's made into a full-length story is up to you guys. If you like it, and want to see it fleshed out more (because I had to skip a lot of scenes that I thought would be great for building up the world and the characterization), then I'll add it to my to-do list. There would be more scenes of Lucy and Cobra together where he's fighting her on it, more drama, more about Bickslow's magic in this universe, _the fucking staff_ that gives Lucy her magic, some other things... Plus a whole subplot about him being the son of Freyja (aka one of the gods... that I tossed in here but didn't get to explore).

 **So, you tell me if you'd like to see this as a whole story.**

 **As one last note, I mentioned that there were some Norse elements and inspiration in this.  
** I literally just picked and chose whatever I thought worked well, and left everything else. If you're awesome with Norse Mythology and want to see more of this story, drop me a PM and give me some ideas of things I could research that you think would fit.

Also, in case you were wondering... seiðr (pronounced "seith-er") is totally Bix's magic, man... Seith magic... If you're not familiar with it, look it up. Part of it is literally _sex magic_ , like I can't even. When I went back to edit this, I did add a few more scenes that I'd cut before. And one of those scenes was where Cobra tries to kill Lucy in his room, and the resulting scene afterwards with Bickslow, where we find out who the fuck he is in this universe. I got the idea to use him while I was researching Norse mythology, and I couldn't leave him out!

 **Anyway! Drop me a review and let me know how you liked this one. Tomorrow's the last day for CoLu Week 2018, and I'm excited for you guys to read it! And I promise, it's not nearly as dark as this one was. Please remember, tomorrow's prompt will _not_ appear in this collection. It ended up needing multiple chapters, so it's going to be appearing as a new story tomorrow, under the title _"You're Still the One."_**


	9. Day 8: You're Still the One

**I'd like to apologize to my readers.**

 _ **This story has been moved to a separate entry on FFnet.**_

You can find this entry under the story _You're Still the One_ _._

Although links don't work on this godforsaken site, here's the URL if you want to go that route instead. Just remove the spaces that are placed after the dots and slashes. Oh my god, I hate how the formatting is on this site.

fanfiction: /s /12978545 /1 /You-re-Still-the-One

Sorry for the inconvenience. Because Day 8 is going to have multiple chapters, I decided to put it into its own entry here on FFnet.


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